Watson, stunned, looks up. He calls to the circling hawk, “Frank? Frank?”
“Screeeeeeee!” answers Buteo jamaicensis einstein, “Screeeeeee!”
“Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!” screams Leslie.
She runs out of her tent and dives into Janegoodall and Anna’s tent.
“I saw his hook! It was reaching into my tent! It was trying to get me!”
Janegoodall and Anna sit up in their sleeping bags.
Janegoodall winks to Anna. Then laughs. “Did the hook look like . . . a wire coat hanger?”
“What? I don’t know. Wait a minute . . . Ooooooooo, you guys tricked me.”
Leslie and Janegoodall laugh.
“That was scary.”
Anna is not laughing. She holds up a coat hanger hook.
“Uh . . . I was going to play that trick on you, but . . . but I didn’t get a chance to yet. It wasn’t me . . .”
Leslie stops laughing.
“Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!”
Buteo jamaicensis einstein flies down to earth.
The belt reverse beep beep beeps.
The EvoBlaster compass spins back to Homo sapiens.
Frank’s DNA re-splits and recombines at hyperspeed.
Hawk Frank Einstein devolves, then evolves.
Bam!
Frank evo-blasts back to human shape.
“Yes!” cheers Frank. “It works.”
“Wow,” marvels Watson.
“Now watch this,” says Frank.
Homo sapiens Frank sets the EvoBlaster Belt compass again.
Watson looks worried. “Don’t you think we should—”
“Nope,” says Frank.
He punches the EVO-PLAY button.
The EvoBlaster Belt hums, the gold Circle of Life disk rotates, the compass spins.
Frank’s DNA splits and reforms at hyperspeed.
Homo sapiens Frank Einstein blurs and evo-blasts into . . . Tamiasciurus hudsonicus einstein (American red squirrel Einstein).
Squirrel Frank scrambles up a nearby pine tree.
He is suddenly very hungry for nuts and seeds.
He flips his bushy tail over his head. He digs his sharp claws into the tree bark. He races down the tree trunk and leaps to the ground.
The belt reverse beep beep beeps.
The compass spins.
Bam!
Frank evo-blast-returns to human.
“Man, I would really like a tasty pinecone.”
“What if we—” Watson starts to say.
Frank sets the EvoBlaster Belt compass and punches the EVO-PLAY button again.
The EvoBlaster Belt hums, the gold Circle of Life disk rotates, the compass spins.
Frank’s DNA splits and reforms at hyperspeed.
Homo sapiens Frank Einstein blurs and evo-blasts into . . . Apis mellifera einstein (honey bee Einstein).
Honey bee Frank flaps his wings, flying crazy circles around Klank.
He sees Watson split into a hundred Watsons through his compound bee eyes.
He feels, smells, and tastes the forest through his antennae.
He would really like to sink his proboscis into a sweet flower.
The belt reverse beep beep beeps.
The compass spins.
Bam!
Frank scratches his human head.
“I feel like explaining everything in a wiggle dance.”
“Well—” begins Watson.
Frank sets the EvoBlaster Belt compass and punches the EVO-PLAY button again.
The EvoBlaster Belt hums, the gold Circle of Life disk rotates, the compass spins.
Frank’s DNA splits and reforms at hyperspeed.
Homo sapiens Frank Einstein blurs and evo-blasts into . . . Rubus fruticosus einstein (blackberry plant Einstein).
Blackberry bush Frank catches sunshine on his leaves.
He pulls in carbon dioxide and releases oxygen.
He probes the soil with his roots.
The belt reverse beep beep beeps.
The compass spins.
Bam!
Human Frank shakes a leg.
“Why do I want to drink a glass of water through my feet?”
Watson raises his hand. “I would like—”
Frank sets the EvoBlaster Belt compass and punches the EVO-PLAY button again.
The EvoBlaster Belt hums, the gold Circle of Life disk rotates, the compass spins.
Frank’s DNA splits and reforms at hyperspeed.
Homo sapiens Frank Einstein blurs and evo-blasts into . . . Staphylococcus einstein (bacteria Einstein).
Bacteria Einstein searches for water.
He searches for nutrition.
He searches for someplace warm.
The belt reverse beep beep beeps.
The compass spins.
Bam!
Human Frank pulls back his arm.
“OK, that was scary. And also, Watson—why is my finger in your nose?”
Watson shakes his head. “I have no idea. But the EvoBlaster Belt really can blast you back and forth into any living shape?”
Frank unbuckles the EvoBlaster Belt and nods. “That was the idea. Just like Grampa Al and Charles Darwin said. It’s all connected.”
Klink plugs into the belt, and runs a battery of tests.
“Good. Positive. Yes. OK.”
Frank checks the position of the setting sun. “OK, so here’s our plan. Let’s get some sleep. Tomorrow we take the EvoBlaster Belt to Park Area 51. I’ll evo-blast into a hawk. Fly over. See what’s going on. Then figure out the best life form to use to fix this eco-mess.”
Frank casually slings the EvoBlaster Belt over his shoulder.
Watson gives the belt a longing look.
“But . . .”
“Yeah?”
“Well . . . have you ever noticed that every time you make an invention, and we go to sleep, it gets stolen?”
“Yes, that is true,” says Klink. “And have you ever noticed that is never my fault?” Klink looks at Klank.
Klank looks down and whistles, examining his feet very intently.
“Well, that’s not going to happen this time,” says Frank. “Because one—nobody but us even knows about this invention. Two—T. Edison and Mr. Chimp are nowhere around. And three—we can use Klink’s bike lock attachment so the EvoBlaster Belt doesn’t get swiped.”
Frank turns to head back to camp.
“Yeah, sure. That could work,” says Watson. “But before we head back . . . um . . . don’t you think it would be . . . uh . . . good scientific method to, you know—test the belt on another life form? Make sure it works on anyone?”
Frank stops and thinks. “That would be good scientific method. Always good to have someone else duplicate results. But who can we get to do that?”
Klank raises his big metal hand. “Me! Me! I will evo-blast into . . . an elephant!”
“Oh, for goodness’ sake,” says Klink. “Use a few thought cells. You are a robot. Remember?”
“Awwwwwwwwww,” says Klank.
“Klink’s right,” says Frank. “The EvoBlaster only works on living DNA.”
Watson stares at the EvoBlaster Belt and rubs his chin. “You know . . . I could give it a try . . .”
Frank shakes his head. “No, that wouldn’t work. Remember you said ‘I am not testing any part of this craziness’?”
“Correct,” says Klink. “That is exactly what you said. Would you like me to replay a recording of your voice?”
Watson smacks Klink on the side of his glass head. “Well yeah, I did say that. But for the sake of science, you know. And to figure out what’s in that creepy Park Area 51. And for the good of the world. I really should help.”
“And you would really like to see what it’s like to be . . . a cat?”
Watson smiles. “Yes.”
Frank looks serious for a second. He taps one finger on his lip. He looks at the belt. He looks at Watson. And then he cracks up laughing. “Heck yeah! Let’
s get you evo-blasting!”
Frank and Watson, and even non-DNA Klink and Klank, are so excited buckling the belt on Watson and setting the compass to Felis catus . . . that they don’t even notice another member of the hominid family carefully positioning himself in the tree directly above them.
“You know what, Watson. This is actually a very good idea,” says Frank. “Cats have great hearing, even better night vision, and an amazing sense of smell. This might be the perfect form to solve our eco-mystery.”
Watson nods.
Frank punches the EVO-PLAY button.
The belt hums. The compass spins around the Circle of Life.
And that’s when everything goes wrong.
A blazing orange-red sun sets slowly behind the lush green tree–covered hills of Darwin Park. Forked-tail, curve-winged barn swallows (Hirundo rustica) dart in the darkening blue sky overhead. Squirrels climb. Bugs fly. Fish swim in the crystal-clear water of the Darwin River splashing over bluestone rocks and through gullies.
The shadows of coming night cover the stream twisting and turning, plunging under a towering metal wall and . . . suddenly disappearing into a long, low, black steel building where . . .
T. Edison stands on a metal mesh platform overlooking a crashing, clanking, hissing, whooshing, rumbling factory line.
“Why?!” yells T. Edison, smacking a big green SPEED button on the master control panel.
“Why do I always have to do everything?!”
The hissing and whooshing and rumbling of the bottling line speeds up.
“I fill the bottle-blowing machine!”
T. Edison smacks the handrail.
Smack!
“I feed the washing and capping machine!!”
Smack!
“I tune the labeling and shrink-wrapping machine!!!”
Smack!
“That stupid monkey doesn’t understand anything! He doesn’t get it. You have to be the boss of Nature! Smack it, bend it to your will!”
T. Edison stomps down the metal-grating steps to the factory floor. He mutters out loud to himself.
“I am the genius around here. Why am I stuck doing all the work? I think up all the great ideas for inventions. I make it all possible.”
T. Edison ducks inside the line of water bottles snaking around the machinery. He picks a bottle off the line.
He admires its simple label.
“Stupid consumers don’t even know they are just buying stream water. I saved a lot of money by not messing around with a water purifier, too.”
T. Edison checks his watch.
“Almost bedtime. And that goofy primate is still out messing around. Well, I’ve got news for that chimp. He is now a part-time employee. No more health benefits. No more insurance. No more library books for him. And I’m done for the night. I’m going to bed!”
T. Edison smacks the red STOP button. The water-bottling assembly line rumbles, clanks, hisses to a stop. And it is suddenly very quiet. And a little scary.
T. Edison stomps over to a small bedroom with a cot. He puts on his favorite Transformer pajamas and climbs under his Spider-Man sheets.
Outside, a cricket chirps.
Water drips.
T. Edison takes out his phone and dials the one number saved in it.
“Hello, sweetie!”
“Hello, Mother.”
“Are you and Mr. Chimpy Whimpy having fun on your camping trip?”
T. Edison turns sideways on his Spider-Man pillow. “Yes, production—I mean camping is good.”
“That’s nice.”
“I just called to—you know . . . say good night.”
“Of course, sweetie,” says Mrs. Edison. She sing-songs, “Good night.”
T. Edison answers, “Sleep tight.”
They both finish, “Don’t let the bedbugs bite.”
T. Edison hangs up. He smiles. He gets out of bed and smacks the green START button. The assembly line jumps into rattling production again.
T. Edison lies back in bed, listening to the hum and crash of free water being turned into bottled money.
He crosses his hands behind his head and smiles.
T. Edison loves to be the boss.
Of absolutely everything.
The EvoBlaster Belt hums and begins hyperspeed splitting and recombining Watson’s DNA.
Mr. Chimp activates the almost-invisible trigger wire he has rigged to a huge dead tree.
Deeper in the woods, the rigged tree leans, spins, and falls with a forest-shaking crrrraaaash!
Klink, Klank, and Frank jump.
They turn back to look for the cause of the noisy crash.
And in that five seconds of distraction, Mr. Chimp drops from the tree, grabs the EvoBlaster Belt, and swings back up to his hiding place in the heavily leafed linden tree (Tilia cordata)—unseen by anyone except the half-evo-blasted Watson.
“Wow,” says Klank. “That was a big tree.”
“No kidding,” says Frank. “We can check that after—”
Frank stops.
He looks at the spot where Watson is supposed to be testing the EvoBlaster Belt.
Watson has evo-blasted into a house cat (Felis catus watson).
But something is missing.
“Hey,” says Klank. “Where is the belt?”
“Calculating possible malfunctions now,” says Klink.
Frank and Klank look all around the meadow, in the woods, across the pond.
No belt.
“EvoBelt systems all fine,” reports Klink. “There’s a 99.9 percent possibility that belt was removed just as Watson evo-blasted into the form of this Felis catus.”
Frank raises his eyebrows. “Oh boy.”
“Meow?” asks Felis catus watson.
Frank kneels down, picks up the gray tabby cat, and pets it. “Don’t worry, Watson. Everything’s fine. You will be back to human in three minutes. Just as long as the POWER button on the belt doesn’t get turned off. Because that, um . . . erases your return to Homo sapiens code . . .”
“Meow,” says Felis catus watson, looking up into the tree above them. “Meow!”
A leathery finger presses the POWER button on the belt.
The spinning compass slows to a stop.
The EvoBlaster’s lights dim, and it powers off.
Mr. Chimp swings away.
Felis catus watson jumps from Frank’s arms and claws up the tree, madly chasing the disappearing shape—his one, and only, hope to return to human form.
High in an American hornbeam tree (Carpinus caroliniana), Mr. Chimp puts the finishing touches on his night nest. He weaves one last leafy branch into the snugly padded bowl of sticks and leaves, settles in, and leans back against the smooth gray trunk.
He looks around. That pesky cat is long lost, and nowhere to be seen.
Mr. Chimp places his ladybug backpack gently between his rough feet.
Field crickets (Gryllus assimilis) chirp their evening call.
Mr. Chimp takes off his SECURITY hat and places it gently on the edge of his nest.
Spring peepers (Pseudacris crucifer) peep, calling for mates.
Mr. Chimp opens his pack and unconsciously holds his breath as he pulls out his prize.
The bright full moon shines through the hornbeam branches and lights up—a belt. A large, wired gold belt with a compass dial.
The chorus of crickets and katydids and peepers trills in the clear night air.
Mr. Chimp examines the belt controls. He thinks he probably should bring the belt to T. Edison. They can test it. Imitate it. Make it their invention.
But . . .
Maybe not.
What has T. Edison done with all Mr. Chimp’s good ideas? Except mess them up?
Mr. Chimp stands up in his nest.
Mr. Chimp buckles the EvoBlaster belt on his waist. It feels good.
The crickets chirp a beat slower as the night air cools.
Mr. Chimp has watched every PBS special about apes (and monkeys) and
evolution. Twice.
He knows more about the primate family tree than T. Edison ever will.
Mr. Chimp idly taps the REVERSE button on the EvoBlaster belt.
He knows that he and T. Edison came from a common ancestor who lived around eight million years ago.
The peepers peep louder, competing to sing the loudest.
Mr. Chimp knows that 98.8 percent of his DNA and T. Edison’s DNA is the same.
And that he has an extra pair of chromosomes. Twenty-four to T. Edison’s twenty-three.
Mr. Chimp taps the FAST-FORWARD button on the EvoBlaster Belt.
What he doesn’t know is what no one knows . . .
A warm night wind sways Mr. Chimp’s nesting tree. Silver moonbeams light the woods in spooky effect. The chorus of calling peepers, crickets, and katydids swells in a screaming crescendo.
. . . what might a chimpanzee (Pan troglodytes) evolve into in the far future?
The full moon slips behind a cloud.
It is too dark to see exactly which button is pressed by Mr. Chimp’s leathery index finger.
But a hum, a glow, the whir of a spinning golden circle, then pooooom! A flash of yellow lights up the night woods, scaring every insect, bird, and animal in the woods silent.
The wind blows.
Clouds glide overhead.
The reappearing moon lights up something standing in Mr. Chimp’s sleeping nest.
Something not chimpanzee.
Something not human.
Something not ever seen before in this world.
A Future-Evolved Super Chimp.
Frank powers off the camp light, snuggles down in his sleeping bag, and quickly falls asleep.
Outside Frank’s tent, Klank sits on the ground, awkwardly squeezing the gray tabby cat in a flexi-arm hug. “But what are we going to do?”
Klink parks himself by the camp workbench. “Like Frank Einstein said: There is nothing we can do tonight. So power down. Save your energy. Tomorrow morning we get inside Area 51.”
Klank hugs the cat tighter. “But oh, poor Watson!”
“Mrrrroww!” gasps the squashed cat.
Klink powers down.