Armageddon - By James Patterson Page 0,13

would blast her to smithereens, too.

Yes, I needed to rest and restore my powers.

But I did not need to be stupid.

“I have a better idea,” I said.

“What?”

“You ever ride an elephant?”

Chapter 17

“THAT. WAS. SO. Amazing!”

With Dr. X’s permission, I had just transformed both of our horses into giant pachyderms.

“How did you do that?”

I gave Mel the standard magician’s answer: “Quite well, don’t you think?”

“No, really, Daniel. Where did these elephants come from?”

I shrugged. “My imagination.”

“Wow. Einstein was so totally right!”

“Huh?”

“Albert Einstein. Frizzy hair? Genius? E equals mc squared?”

I nodded. I knew the guy. I had even proven several of his theories, like that one where he said, “The separation between past, present, and future is only an illusion, although a convincing one.” That was so true.

“Oh, by the way,” said Mel, “was Einstein an alien, too?”

“Sorry,” I said with a grin. “I am not at liberty to divulge that information.”

“Well, anyway, Einstein said, ‘Imagination is more important than knowledge.’ ”

I went ahead and finished the rest of the quote: “ ‘For knowledge is limited to all we now know and understand, while imagination embraces the entire world, and all there ever will be to know and understand.’ ”

“Exactly,” said Mel. “So, can you create anything you dream up?”

“I guess. But I have to grok it first.”

“Oh, like in Stranger in a Strange Land?” said Mel.

“You’ve read Robert A. Heinlein’s book?”

“Well, duh,” said Mel. “Hasn’t everybody?”

“Well…”

“To grok is to understand something so thoroughly that the observer becomes part of the observed! It’s like you totally drink it in!”

We continued our discussion of grokking, and Alpar Nok, and whether Justin Bieber was an alien as we plodded across the rolling fields, swaying in the basket seats on the backs of our giant elephants (I had supersized our mastodons because they’re even cooler to ride when they’re the size of massive woolly mammoths). Even Dr. X was enjoying the ride.

I have always wanted to walk a mile in my brudda’s hooves, he said in my head. Thank you, Daniel, for making it possible.

You’re welcome, brudda, I thought back, aping his reggae slang for “brother.” But are you a hundred percent certain this is what I need to be doing right now? I’m extremely worried about Number 2.

What are you so worried about?

That I won’t be ready to take him down when this battle you keep talking about finally takes place. I don’t even know who or what I’m up against. The List draws a total blank on his powers, his planet of origin, his—

Worry is wasted energy, Daniel. It is like praying for things you don’t really want.

But…

This is very important, your time with Mel.

How?

You are experiencing humanity at its best. Joy. Friendship. Perhaps even the first inklings of love, yah?

Whoa, ease up, Dr. X. Hold your horses. This is our first date and, technically, it’s not even a date. It’s just a horse ride that, you know, turned into an elephant ride.

Heh, heh, heh. Savor this moment, Daniel. Drink it in and, as you say, grok it. For the time is coming when hate will seem to conquer love. And Daniel?

Yes?

You must not let the darkness win!

Chapter 18

“SO, DANIEL,” MEL said after I turned our elephants back into horses. “What’s next?”

Mel was radiant. Happiness filled her face. To tell the truth, I was feeling pretty giddy, too.

“I dunno,” I said. “What do you want to do?”

“I dunno. Hey—there’s this really cool cave up at the base of that hill. We could go in there, and you could turn the bats into flying dinosaurs or something, and the horses could be like brontosauruses….”

Great, I thought. Another bat cave.

“Or we could eat,” said Joe as he climbed over the white fence behind the horse barn, followed by Emma, Willy, and, of course, Dana.

Yes, I had conjured up my four friends.

You know what it’s like when you meet somebody who you think is pretty great: you want to make sure your old friends like your new friend as much as you do. Plus, having the gang around meant I could avoid Mel’s spelunking idea. What can I say? I’d already fulfilled my subterranean adventure quota for the year.

“Mel,” I said, “these are my best friends: Joe, Willy, his sister, Emma—”

“I love your horses, you guys!” Emma gushed as she rushed over to stroke their manes. “Can I feed them an apple?”

“Sure,” said Mel.

“Um, Daniel?”

“Yes, Emma?”

“Apples?”

“Coming right up.” I snapped my fingers and materialized Emma a bushel full of Granny Smiths, Macintoshes, Braeburns, and Galas—with a