Fang

51

DID I WHIRL INSTANTLY, fists clenched, legs tensing for battle? Or did I stay calm, act casual, and walk right on by the doc as if I hadn’t even seen him?

You guessed it – neither. Instead, I dropped one of my cups of coins. Easily a couple hundred dollars. Fang seemed more upset by the spillage than by the looming threat of evil.

“Hello, Max, Fang,” said Dr. Gunther-Hagen, smiling as he watched Fang scramble to recover his wi

“We’re not,” I said. “Fang, leave that money for some poor soul who really needs it,” I said, all Mother Teresa again. Except I didn’t leave my cups of cash behind.

I stepped out of the elevator, squinting in the bright light. “Why are you here?” See, this is where my lack of social graces comes in handy. I don’t waste time and energy on thinking of what the nice thing to do is.

Dr. Hans’s eyebrows rose. “I’m here for a professional convention, being held at one of the resorts. But why are you here? Where’s the rest of the flock?”

“At Ripley’s,” I said. “So, what, you saw us and decided to just pop in, say hi?”

“Yes,” said Dr. Hans pleasantly. “Is Dylan with you? How is he progressing?”

“Dandy!” I lied again. “We left him over at one of the craps tables. That way.” I pointed back to the elevator. “I’m sure he can’t wait to see you!”

“We have to go,” said Fang, putting his hand on my arm.

“Wait, please,” said Dr. Hans. “I’m happy to have run into you. I wanted to reiterate what I said in Africa. And I wanted to make sure you received my offer for Iggy. Is it not compelling? You could give him the gift of sight, in return for a little cooperation. You could be invaluable to my project because – well, you’re a miracle, really.”

Gosh, a miracle! It had been ages since someone called me that. Actually, no one had ever called me that.

“You pla

Dr. G-H looked around, as if realizing what a public place this was. He gestured us over toward some isolated benches in the entry plaza. “The apocalypse is coming. You’ve been on a mission to save the world. Do you understand how you’re supposed to do that?”

Okay, the details on that had been sketchy, but I wasn’t about to admit it.

“By having you chop off one of my wings to see if it grows back? I don’t think so.”

He went on. “Max, I promise you will remain intact. My research will help current humans adapt, so they can live in the radically different environment we’ll all be facing. We estimate that more than half the world’s population will simply disappear; I’ve found a way to keep some people alive long enough to ensure that the human race isn’t extinguished entirely.” His voice was pleading, his face earnest.

“You’re a prince,” I said. “But I gave you my answer back in Africa.”

He paused a second, then continued. “I anticipate people will be scared and worried. Most of them won’t understand what I hope to accomplish. But if you were my spokesperson, demonstrating that being different can be wonderful and even necessary, then I could get many, many more people to understand and accept my program.”

Who did this guy think he was? The world’s savior? Was that position even open? And what did he want me to be? A walking, talking, flying commercial?

“It seems like a worthy cause,” I said. I felt Fang’s muscles tense. “Tell you what – I’ll go ahead and jump on this crazy bandwagon. Count me in.”

Dr. Hans’s eyes widened and a smile lit his face. “Max, that’s wonderf -”

“My price is a million dollars.” I know. I’m bad.

“My dear” – he glanced with amusement at my and Fang’s hoard of coins – “I do believe you just said you didn’t need any money.”

“I said we weren’t gambling types. I’m all about serious business, Doc. And I’m telling you that a million dollars is what it will take for me to even consider this gig.”

I could see the wheels turning in his head. I bet those hamsters were tired.

“I could do a million dollars,” he said slowly, nodding.

Oh, I forgot – the guy was a billionaire arts patron and he owned a bunch of huge pharma companies that bankrolled all his plans.

“I meant a million dollars a day,” I revised. Don’t ever say I’m not a tough negotiator.

“This isn’t a joke, Max,” he said coldly. “You might think carefully about what you say to me. You’ve already lied to me once today. I know the flock isn’t with you. I also know Dylan isn’t either, even though he should be.” I felt Fang flinch next to me. “You consistently ignore my advice, and you will regret it if you continue to do so. I have great resources at my disposal. I can help you tremendously, and I want to. I can also do the opposite of that.”

I stood my ground. “You evil scientists are all the same – evil. Count me out.”

Fang and I brushed past Dr. God and walked quickly but smoothly to the exit. It was barely noon, and I’d already made a huge enemy.

Dang, I’m good.

52

“OKAY, TRY THIS ONE,” Gazzy said, handing a hot rod magazine to Iggy. Gazzy guided his finger to touch the photograph on the page.

“Mostly red, I can feel that part – but let me try without touching it.” He concentrated. “Hmm, nice. Sort of curvy. But not like a Porsche. Wait… No, it’s really low and flat but… not a Lamborghini. How about… Let me cheat a little here…” He touched the picture again. “I’m go

Gazzy jumped up. “No way! I can’t believe you got that!”

“Hey guys! You’ve gotta come out here!” Dylan called urgently from the deck.

“What now?” Nudge asked, pulling her earbuds out. She was in the middle of a What Not to Wear download marathon.

“Probably another Eraser attack,” Iggy said, sounding bored.

Angel scampered out into the blackness, ready to deliver orders from the deck if necessary.

“Ugh!” Nudge whined. “I wish they’d wait until I finish this episode.”

“Seriously, guys,” Dylan insisted, but he sounded excited. “The sky is amazing tonight. Check it out!”

“Oh, joy.” Iggy scowled, then softened his tone. “Go ahead, Gaz,” he said. “All this vision stuff tonight has tired me out.”

Minutes later, the flock had peeled themselves away from what they had been doing and were stepping out onto the deck in the cool, clear night. Even Iggy decided to join the crew. Dylan was flat on his back. The deck was only just as wide as he was tall.

“Come down here,” he instructed. “It’s better this way. You don’t have to crane your neck. Can you believe what’s going on up there?”

“I don’t see much going on,” Nudge said. “There’s a lot of stars, though.”

“Jeb taught us the constellations,” Angel said, a little wistfully, after they had all situated themselves. “A long time ago.”

“What’re they?” Dylan asked blankly.

“Gosh, you do need help, don’t you?” Gazzy commented. “You should have gone to Max’s Home School.”

Dylan chuffed. “Yeah. A little late for that.”

“Well, for starters, there’s the Little Dipper.” It was Jeb’s voice from inside. He’d appeared behind the screen door quietly. “Can you see it, guys? Do you remember?”

“Yeah. I used to call them the Dipsticks,” Gazzy reminisced. “Back when I was a dumb little kid.”

“I know Orion!” Nudge bragged. “I see his belt over there at about two o’clock.”

“Jeb, can you show us again?” Angel asked, sounding more like her younger, more i

“I’m totally confused about what you guys are talking about,” Dylan said.

“With you on that, Dyl.” Iggy put his feet on the wooden deck rail and his hands behind his head, staring up at nothing.