The Virtual Vandal Read online

  Of course, she was talking about her missing gallons of fog fluid that someone had borrowed two days ago.

  The missing fluid was the latest in a string of… mishaps… happening to many of the Swift Academy students. There were projects with missing components, disassembled devices, and even rewired mechanisms. No one knew who the prankster was but everyone was on guard, especially since we were so close to the field trip.

  “Safety goggles on, everyone,” Mr. Edge instructed. He pulled his goggles down from his forehead.

  Those who weren’t already wearing goggles did the same. Since there was no telling what students were up to in this class, everyone pretty much kept his or her goggles close at hand.

  “Okay, nobody move, please,” Simone said as she hovered over a black cylindrical device.

  She flicked a toggle switch on the side of the device and a green beam appeared out of one end. Normally, laser beams are invisible to the naked eye, but this one reflected off Mia’s smoke. The thin line crisscrossed all over the classroom as it bounced off the tiny mirrors placed about the room. Students backed away from the laser beam, careful not to block it.

  “How long have you extended your beam with the mirrors?” Mr. Edge asked Simone.

  “Approximately twenty-five meters,” she replied. “I hope to double or even triple the distance during the field trip.” She picked up a handheld mic and turned to the rest of the class. “Can someone help with the sound?”

  “I’m in,” Noah said as he scrambled to his feet. I got the feeling he wanted to put off some of his “boring busywork.”

  Simone handed Noah the microphone. “Can you stand outside the classroom?”

  “You bet,” he said as he snaked the cord past the students. He stepped outside and closed the door, careful to make sure the cord ran underneath.

  Simone moved to the head of the classroom, where the beam ended on a tiny green dot on the wall, just above Mr. Edge’s desk. Simone placed a thin piece of metal on a stand and slid it in front of the beam.

  “Okay, Noah!” Simone shouted. “Say something.”

  Although Noah’s words were muffled coming from the hallway, they were crystal clear coming from the sheet of metal. “Noah Newton on the mic,” he said. “Step onto the dance floor!”

  The class laughed.

  Simone held a small device next to the metal. It was a decibel meter. It measured how loud sounds could be. “Fifty-three decibels,” she announced, before replacing the metal with a thin sheet of wood. She turned toward the door. “Say it again, Noah.”

  “What do you want me to say?” Noah’s voice emitted from the wood. It was quieter and muddier.

  “You have to say the same exact thing,” Simone said. “So I can get a precise reading.”

  “Noah Newton on the mic,” he repeated. “Step onto the dance floor.” Then he added a rhyme. “Not nearly as funny as it was before.”

  The class laughed again.

  “Thirty-eight decibels,” Simone reported. Then she replaced the wood with a pane of glass. “One more time, Noah.”

  There was no answer.

  Actually, that wasn’t true. I could hear Noah’s muffled voice through the closed door but I couldn’t hear his voice vibrating off the glass.

  “Again, Noah?” Simone asked.

  Once again, no sound emanated from the glass. Simone reached out and angled it a bit and, for a split second there, I thought I heard a bit of Noah’s voice before…

  POW!

  The pane of glass shattered as if it had been filled with tiny explosives. Simone let out a short scream as she stumbled backward. I hopped off my stool and raced to the head of the class. Mr. Edge and I were the first ones there.

  “Are you all right?” I asked.

  “I’m okay,” Simone replied. She was somewhat dazed but otherwise seemed fine. There was just a tiny nick on her left cheek, and a bead of blood began to form.

  Mr. Edge pulled two tissues from a box on his desk and gently held them against her face. “Here, hold this,” he instructed.

  Simone took the tissues and Mr. Edge walked her toward the classroom door. “Let’s get you to the school nurse,” he said. “It just looks like a small nick, but it’ll be best to have her take a look at you.” He looked over his shoulder. “Tom, power down the laser. I’ll call Mr. Jacobs to clean up the glass, so everyone be careful until he gets here.”

  I went over and switched off Simone’s laser. Noah walked in as Mr. Edge and Simone left.

  “What happened?” Noah asked.

  “There was no sound at all,” I replied. “And then the entire pane of glass exploded.”

  “That doesn’t make sense,” he said. “We saw her use the laser on glass last week. It worked just fine.”

  “Let’s check it out,” I said, leading the way to the front of the classroom. We knelt beside the pile of broken glass and I carefully picked up the biggest shard. Noah grabbed another.

  “Looks like regular glass,” Noah said.

  My finger easily slid along the flat surface—too easily. The glass was coated with a slick, clear liquid.

  “What is that?” I asked. “Grease?”

  Noah rubbed his thumb and forefinger together and then smelled them. “I think so, yeah,” he replied. “Why would Simone put grease on the glass?”

  “Maybe she didn’t,” I suggested.

  Noah raised an eyebrow. “Another prank?”

  I shrugged. “Could be.”

  Noah grimaced and shook his head. “This is more than just a prank, man.”

  3 The Construction Destruction

  “WE HAVE TO HIDE OUR gear,” Noah said. “We have to hide it while we’re still here, and when we get to the camp… all the time.”

  “Everything’s locked up in Mr. Edge’s storeroom,” I said. “No one has broken in there yet, right? I mean, Mia’s fog fluid was just in the classroom when it was stolen, right?”

  “That’s what she said,” Noah replied. He nodded down at the cardboard box he was carrying. “We should hide this stuff, too.”

  Noah and I were busy working on the next project for the field trip. Okay, maybe it wasn’t an official project but it was just as important. You see, every year, at the end of the summer camp field trip, all three schools get together for an official unofficial water balloon battle. Right now we were on our way to the gym to test our contribution to the war effort.

  There were a lot of students roaming the halls during class. Luckily, many of the teachers were a little lenient with the students participating in the upcoming field trip. Our physics teacher, Mrs. Lee, was no exception. Of course, both of our projects very much involved physics.

  We entered the gym to see the place buzzing with more students than usual. It seems we weren’t the only ones with the idea to test our invention in the large space. However, there was one invention that had taken up residence in the gym for the past couple of weeks, and that was Evan Wittman’s Christmas tree.

  “If that thing works, it’s going to win for sure,” Noah said.

  “No doubt,” I agreed.

  Evan’s invention wasn’t really a Christmas tree. It just looked a lot like one—an upside-down Christmas tree. It was a special design to help pull water from the air. You know how dew can cover everything, early in the morning? Well, Evan’s tree was designed to collect that dew on its tiny branches. The branches were angled so the water could run down toward the bigger branches, which were connected to the four main “trunks” that supported the whole tree. Then all the water got collected in a container in the middle of the trunks.

  Evan had been assembling it for the past two weeks. Now it looked as if he and Kent Jackson were taking it apart and packing it up for the field trip. Evan stood on a tall ladder and pulled out a small branch from one of the four trunks.

  “There’s room over here,” I said. I nodded at an empty space near the bleachers.

  Noah and I set our boxes down at the base of the bleachers and
began to unpack them. I pulled out my old paintball gun and screwed on the air tank. Then I attached the PVC barrel we had designed just for this project. Paintball guns had oversize parts to begin with, so this longer, fatter barrel looked like an exaggerated silencer. I felt like a hit man in a spy thriller.

  I grinned at Noah. “The name is Swift. Tom Swift.”

  Noah rolled his eyes and finished unpacking his box. He pulled out several paper cylinders and laid them out on the bottom bleacher.

  “Cool VR program, Noah,” Ashley Robbins said as she and Jenna Davis walked over.

  “Thanks,” replied Noah.

  Ashley grinned. “That T. rex was superscary!”

  “Hey.” Jenna pointed at the cylinders on the bleacher. “I thought your project involved rockets.”

  “It does,” said Noah. “These are for the battle royale at the end.”

  “The water balloon fight?” Jenna asked. “Cool! What are you going to do?”

  “You know those T-shirt guns they use at ball games?” I asked. “The ones that shoot rolled-up shirts into the crowd using air pressure?”

  “Oh, yeah,” replied Jenna.

  “Well, picture that but with a water balloon,” I said.

  Ashley cocked her head. “How are you going to do that?” she said. “Won’t the water balloon break when you hit it with all that air pressure?”

  “That was my question,” Noah replied.

  I picked up one of the paper cylinders from the bleacher. “So we designed these little shuttles. They’re sturdy enough to cradle the water balloon inside the barrel.” I flapped the shuttle up and down. “But light enough to fall away from the water balloon in flight.”

  “Theoretically,” Noah added.

  “Theoretically,” I agreed.

  “You’re going to test it in here?” asked Jenna.

  “Sorta,” I replied. “We want to try out the shuttle with no wind to see if it’ll work.”

  Noah pulled out a small blue beanbag. “And we’re starting with these.”

  I nodded at Jenna. “You came up with the shoe charger, right?”

  She nodded. “That’s me.”

  In engineering class, Jenna talked about converting a pair of hiking boots with a device that charged a battery as you walked. That way your phone would never be in danger of dying. She described it as the same principle used for flashlights you charge by either cranking or squeezing a lever.

  Noah pointed at her. “Say, has anyone tried to mess with your boots? Trying to prank you or anything?”

  Jenna shook her head. “No. But I don’t know how they could. I take them with me everywhere I go.”

  We looked down to notice the large brown hiking boots on her feet.

  “Hey, nice,” Noah said. “The heel is a little thicker, but other than that, they look perfectly normal.”

  “Thanks.” Jenna grinned. “I’m going to be hiking all weekend, which is something I like to do anyway. It’s a win-win.”

  Ashley and Jenna stuck around while we finished setting up our makeshift T-shirt/beanbag launcher. When the air pressure was adjusted, Noah loaded the wide PVC barrel with one of the beanbag shuttle combos.

  Once we were good to go, I aimed the barrel up toward a section of empty bleachers. “Fire in the hole,” I said, and pulled the trigger.

  FOOMP!

  The shuttle worked just as expected. It stayed with the beanbag for about two meters before the wind resistance reached its peak. The shuttle fell away, and the beanbag thumped onto higher bleachers.

  “Cool,” said Jenna. “Can I try?”

  “Sure,” I said. I glanced at Noah and he gave me a nod of approval.

  Noah loaded another beanbag into a shuttle and handed it over. I carefully slid them into the oversize barrel and handed the launcher to Jenna. She aimed it toward the bleachers, then stopped. She brought it back down and turned it sideways.

  “Is this the switch?” she asked, tapping at the converted trigger.

  “Careful where you aim…,” Noah began.

  FOOMP!

  The beanbag shot out of the barrel and flew toward Evan’s Christmas tree.

  Jenna yipped in surprise, her eyes widening. She thrust the launcher back into my hands. “Sorry, sorry!”

  Luckily, the beanbag narrowly missed the inverted tree. It sailed past and smacked against the wall beside it.

  “Hey!” Evan shouted.

  I glanced over at Jenna and then realized that she and Ashley had already backed several feet away. I was left holding the bag—or holding the launcher, rather.

  “Sorry!” I shouted back to Evan. “A little misfire.” I turned to the girls. “You owe me one,” I said.

  They were gone.

  “Oh, yeah,” Noah said with a laugh. “They totally left you hanging.”

  I sighed. “How about we go outside to finish testing this?”

  “Good idea,” Noah said. He nodded toward Evan and his tree. “You going to do the walk of shame and get our beanbag back?”

  “Me?” I asked.

  “Dude. You let her shoot it,” Noah said.

  I shook my head and set the launcher down on the bleachers. Then I took a deep breath and casually strolled across the gym, trying not to look too embarrassed.

  When I got to Evan’s area, he was climbing up the ladder to remove another branch.

  “Sorry again,” I told him.

  “That’s okay,” Evan replied. “You didn’t hit—”

  CRACK!

  Something snapped at the base of the tree and the whole thing began to fall over.

  “Oh no, no, no, no!” Evan shouted as he reached for the nearest branch. He latched on to the branch, but since they were meant to be removable, it pulled out from the trunk. The tree toppled over onto the hard gym floor. Several branches shattered under the weight.

  Noah led the way as everyone in the gym ran up to the crash site. “Aw, man,” Noah said. “Did our beanbag do that?”

  Evan shook his head. “No, it missed it completely. I don’t understand.” He got on his hands and knees and examined the base of the tree. I got down on the ground with him.

  Evan’s tree normally sat on four main trunks, attached to a thick base. Now that the tree was on its side, only four stumps jutted up from the base. Two of the stumps were splintered where the main break occurred. The other two had clean cuts.

  I pointed to the cuts. “Are they supposed to be like that?”

  “No way,” Evan replied.

  “Was there a flaw in the plastic?” I asked. “Something that would make them separate like that?”

  Evan shook his head. “Not at all.” He reached out and touched the edges. “Do you see that? Someone cut this.”

  “Hey, what’s that?” asked Noah. He had come down to the floor with us and pointed to a dark stain on the green trunk. He smeared it with his finger and then pulled away. His finger was bright red. He gave it a brief sniff. “That’s blood. Look’s like someone got a little instant karma and cut themselves.”

  Evan got to his feet. He didn’t seem to care.

  Noah and I joined him as he surveyed the wreckage. “Will you be able to repair it by tomorrow?”

  Evan sighed. “I think so. Maybe after an all-nighter.”

  I winced. I’ve pulled a few all-nighters myself working on projects. Luckily, those all-nighters weren’t because someone had vandalized one of my inventions. And let’s be honest, that’s what this was—vandalism. This went way past simple pranks.

  Noah caught my eye and nodded. “I’m serious, man,” he said. “We have to hide our stuff.”

  4 The Inappropriate Appropriation

  “THERE WAS AIDEN WILSON’S WATER filter,” Noah added. “Remember how it grew mold a couple of days ago? He’ll be lucky to have it cleaned and rebuilt by tomorrow.”

  I finished filling another water balloon and handed it to Noah. “Yeah, but you really think someone planted mold?” I asked as I wrapped the mouth of the next bal
loon around the spigot. I slowly opened the valve, filling another balloon with water.

  Noah tied off the balloon and placed it with the others. “It’s possible. And very difficult to prove. I mean, who plants mold?”

  Okay, that one seemed kind of unlikely, but there was certainly evidence now that someone was doing more than just pranking the students’ projects.

  “But why would someone want to sabotage people’s inventions?” I asked. “I mean, we’re mainly competing against other schools, not each other.”

  Noah shrugged. “Bragging rights? I don’t know.”

  We finished filling up our water balloons from the spigot outside the school. Noah carried the five balloons in a plastic grocery bag, while I hauled the launcher. Now we just needed a place to test it.

  The grounds behind the academy were the perfect place to test things like this. Other than the running track and small set of bleachers, the campus was wide open. A few groves with trees and bushes dotted the large manicured landscape. There were plenty of places to launch our balloons, but there were too many targets running about. And by targets, I mean fellow academy students.

  Some were testing their projects for the upcoming field trip—Steve Krieger and Asia Astra were flying a drone in one of the open areas. Other students were on free periods and took the opportunity to get some fresh air while they studied. There were some people sitting under trees wearing VR headsets. Obviously even more students were enjoying Noah’s VR program.

  That was weird—going outside the school to run around inside the school… virtually.

  “How about those trees?” Noah asked. He pointed to a clump of trees and bushes about twenty meters away.

  “Target acquired,” I said objectively. I readied the launcher.

  Noah placed a water balloon inside a paper shuttle, then gently slid the entire package into the PVC barrel. I aimed the launcher at the small grove and fired.

  FOOMP!

  The shuttle worked perfectly. The balloon fired out of the tube without breaking. But unfortunately, the balloon fell short of the target. It splattered on the ground about three meters in front of the nearest bush.