Three secret elements are not included in the periodic table. These elements are thought to be so dangerous that scientists refuse to share their information concerning their existence.
—SECRETS OF THE MODERN WORLD, VOLUME 1,625
I asked Darthin about sudithium as we sat down to lunch with Boris and Eloni.
"It's a very rare element, believed to come from outer space, and it's found in places where meteorites have crashed. It's pale greenish silver in color."
"How do you know all that?"
"I overheard Dr. Frankenhammer talking to Dr. Critchlore about it in the lab this morning. Ever since Pravus escaped punishment, Critchlore's been panicking." He leaned in to whisper. "You guys, I think Dr. Pravus is trying to create the legendary Undefeatable Minion. That's what he was implying during Evil Overlord Dinner Theater."
"Something's up—that's for sure," Eloni said. "After PE I was helping Coach Foley put the dodge boulders away in the shed. Critchlore showed up. He didn't know I was in the shed, so he started telling Coach Foley that he needs him to help arrange teams to go out on search missions. It sounded like he knows where they want to go—they just need to decide who's going."
This was exactly what Professor Murphy had wanted to keep secret. I wondered how soon it would be before I was blamed for the leak of information.
"Field trips? To where?" Boris asked.
"I've looked into it," Darthin said, because of course he had. "Guys, one of the largest impact craters on the Porvian Continent is in Upper Worb."
"Hey, that's where you're from," Boris said.
"I know. What if he wants me to go?" Darthin looked worried now. "I don't want to go back. You can't imagine how terrible it is there. What if they won't let me leave?"
"What's so terrible about it?" I asked. "I mean, I know there's Irma Trackno and her crazy rules about nightly tributes. But your family is there. Don't you miss them?"
"I do. I'd love to bring them some lightbulbs. And toilet paper. They get only one roll a month. But the crater is way north, and I've heard stories ... The beasts there are huge and vicious. There's a reason why the Supremely Wonderful Irma Trackno has never recruited minions from outside her realm. She doesn't need to."
"Relax," I said. "I'm sure Dr. Critchlore won't send you." I didn't want to be mean, but I'd seen baby rabbits that were braver than Darthin. Critchlore would have to be nuts to send him on a field assignment.
Frankie sat down at the table, dropping his tray and resting his head on his folded arms next to it.
"What's up, Frankie?" Eloni asked.
"Nothing," he said into the table. His body shook with sobs, which was good. When he tried to keep his feelings bottled up, his head tended to pop off.
"Want to talk about it?" I asked.
"He's been working with Dr. Frankenhammer," Darthin explained.
"That's good, right?" I said. Frankie usually wanted to spend more time with his dad.
Darthin shook his head and whispered, "Dr. Frankenhammer is studying him, to see what he did wrong, so he can make a better version. He feels threatened by this talk about an Undefeatable Minion, thinks it's ridiculous that everyone believes a centuries-old book can create a better minion than he can."
"Oh, no," I said. I felt so bad for my friend. His father—er, creator—was a perfectionist. Frankie was amazing in so many ways too. It was cruel to only see his faults and ignore his talents.
"What'd he tell you this time?" Darthin asked.
Frankie lifted his head, sniffed, and said, "I'm too emotional." Then he plopped his head back down.
I was worried about my roommates. I couldn't do anything for Frankie, but maybe I could help ease Darthin's worries by talking to Dr. Critchlore. I was sure Darthin wouldn't be chosen for a field trip, but I knew he wouldn't be convinced unless I told him that those words came from our headmaster himself. I decided to go visit Dr. Critchlore before my next class.
There was a new, younger guy behind the secretary's desk. It looked like Professor Vodum had been fired after he'd tried to trick Dr. Critchlore into giving him a better job. This new guy was crisp and neat, from his haircut and clothes to the desk in front of him. He was focused on his work, opening and sorting the mail with quick efficiency and a sour look on his face that reminded me of someone.
Dr. Critchlore's office door was open. It looked exactly like it had before Syke's sabotage, but with three smaller portraits of Dr. Critchlore replacing the giant one that used to hang behind the secretary's desk.
"Um, hi," I said to the new guy. "Professor Vodum's not coming back?"
"Mr. Vodum is now a recruiting assistant," the new guy replied. "He's performing his duties off campus. If you are looking for him, I can pass along a message."
He opened his desk and pulled out a pad of paper. The letterhead read, "From the desk of Barry Merrybench."
I felt my jaw drop open in shock. "Are you related to Miss Merrybench, the late former secretary?"
"I'm her nephew," he said. "Did you know her?"
"Yes," I said. I managed to keep myself from adding, "She tried to kill me." Instead, I smiled and said, "Can I see Dr. Critchlore?"
"Don't be ridiculous," he answered. "He's much too important to see students. There's a string of command, you know. If you have a problem, you start with your teacher, then your guidance counselor, then the dean of students. They will bring any unresolved issues to our headmaster."
"But I always—"
"Oh, I know who you are now." He stood up and came around the desk and stood in front of me, blocking my access to Dr. Critchlore's office. "Karen told me about you. You're Runt Higgins."
"But Miss Merrybench is dead," I said.
"Is she?" he asked sarcastically.
"Yes. She was eaten by zombies."
"Was she? Did anyone find a body?"
He grabbed my arm and dragged me out of the office while that horror-filled sentence seeped into my brain. Was it possible? No. It couldn't be.
As we reached the door, we bumped into two of the most hideous, disgusting, terrifying creatures I'd ever seen. They stood over six feet tall, with moist reddish brown skin, like a slug. Huge round mouths that looked like giant suction cups filled up most of their heads, with thousands of tiny teeth.
I screamed. I knew what these were. Giant leech-men. They sucked the blood out of anything and everything they met.
Barry Merrybench and I stepped back. One of the creatures held out a piece of paper. Barry took it and read aloud: "Dear Dr. Critchlore, Here are two new students I think will do quite well in the 'HOLY BLACK TERROR, WHAT IS THAT THING?!' program. Yours, Head Recruiter Vodum."
"You have got to be kidding me," I said.
