The Age Altertron by Mark Dunn Read Free Book Online Page A

many people could fit into a broom closet or large crate.
    “I do have a theory,” said the Professor in an uneven voice. “It is the same
theory as the one which my assistants Rodney and Wayne have come up with. Rodney,
my boy, why don’t you tell everyone our theory while I put my head out this
window for a breath of air?”
    Rodney explained to all the people in the room how he believed that eleven-and-a-half-years
of instantaneous reverse aging had put those children under that age into a
pre-existing state. And that was why they were nowhere to be found—for there
were no bodies around for them to occupy.
    “Then where are they?” sobbed Mrs. Ragsdale. “What has happened to
them? Will I ever see my Petey again?”
    Wayne stood up on the sofa, his legs bowing out like a baby’s and making him
a little unsteady on his feet. Both he and Rodney were now wearing the baby
jumpers Aunt Mildred had pulled out of the attic cedar chest. The jumpers had
a pattern of little ducklings and goslings on them. Wayne placed one of his
hands on his hip and raised the other into the air as Mighty Mike might have
done when he was a super-hero infant.
“The Professor is working on the problem,” he said. “You can be assured
that this problem will be corrected and all of your children will be returned
to you. Isn’t that right, Professor?”
The Professor did not hear the question. His head was still outside the window
and he was making a sucking noise, trying to draw more air into his lungs.
Mr. Craft stepped forward and addressed Rodney and Wayne: “How can you be so
sure that we will get the children back?”
Neither Rodney nor Wayne knew how to respond, and the Professor wasn’t being
very helpful. Before the boys could come up with an answer, the telephone in
the kitchen rang. Aunt Mildred, who had been serving coffee to people, set down
her coffeepot and went to answer it.
“You all must be patient,” said Becky from the envelope of her father’s arms.
“The Professor is working very hard. Even harder than usual.”
“No he’s not,” said Mr. Dean, the newspaper editor. “He’s sticking his head
out of the window.”
“Well, if there weren’t so many people in this room making things so difficult for him!”
Rodney and Wayne had never seen their little friend so upset before. It was even more unusual
to see her large baby eyes fired with anger and her rosy cheeks even rosier than they had been
earlier. It was usually Becky’s nature to be cheerful or at the very least, politely pleasant.
But Rodney and Wayne could certainly understand the reason for this change in behavior.
It wasn’t easy being a thirteen-year-old girl trapped inside the body of a rubber-limbed baby.
Becky had wanted to help Aunt Mildred make and serve the coffee to all of her guests, but there
was very little that she could do with her flimsy, nubby baby hands except stack sugar cubes
upon a saucer, and even then, some of the cubes wound up on the table and on the floor. Finally,
Aunt Mildred was compelled to return her helpless little helper to the arms of her father and
thank her politely while getting the whiskbroom and and dustpan.
Aunt Mildred had been gone hardly a minute when she returned to the den with
a puzzled look on her face. It was as if someone had told her the answer to
a funny riddle, but it made no sense.
    “What is it? What’s the matter?” asked Mrs. Carter, whose tenyear-old daughter Lucinda had also
disappeared the previous night. Mrs. Carter was perhaps the most worried parent in the whole room,
because she had quarreled with her daughter before sending her up to bed without supper. They had
quarreled over the fact that Lucinda refused to eat her raisin and carrot salad. Lucinda had even
stuck her tongue out at it, and right in front of Mrs. Carter’s friend Mrs. Edwards, who had made
the salad herself and had tender feelings about it. Mrs. Carter was afraid