“In the armory I learned the earliest gunpowder formula — coal, salt, pepper, and sulfur — and it was first written down in the year 1044.” I was pretty sure Gazzy already knew every formula for every explosive in history, but oh well. “And I decided that Iggy sees a lot less than he lets on. Also, I learned that I have a good imagination.”

“Sure you do, Gazzy, but didn’t we all know that?” I pointed out.

“If you did, you never told me,” he said poutily. Note to self: Must do better at encouraging flock.

“Fang? What say you, wise man?”

“Well, did you guys know the Rosetta Stone is, like, way more than a computer program? It’s actually this kind of awesome hieroglyphics-decoder-type rock. And about the flock, I discovered that in some parts of the world, if us bird kids had appeared hundreds of years ago, they literally would have thought we were gods. That’s pretty cool. And about me? I realized … I’d really like to travel the world. See different cultures, live in a tribe. I’m thinking Papua New Guinea or somewhere.”

“Yeah?” I raised an eyebrow. “Well, have fun with that. I think the flock’s seen enough of the globe lately.”

Fang flashed me a look of irritation. “Didn’t think I was getting graded, Max. Remind me to keep my mouth shut next time. I’ll risk the F.”

Okay, that was pretty much three strikes in a row for me. “I’m sorry, guys — I guess I’m just jealous that you all discovered this great stuff and I … didn’t.”

“Whatever, Teach,” Iggy said, a little disgusted. “In case you’re even remotely interested in hearing what I have to say, I learned something about myself.”

“Of course I want to know, Iggy,” I said hastily. “What is it?”

“I learned I want to see.”

We were all quiet.

Iggy had never said that. We totally took for granted that his superior extrasensory skills seemed to give him pretty much the same abilities and quality of life the rest of us had — if not better.

“I’m sorry, Iggy” was my best response. “I wish I could help you.”

“Max? You didn’t ask me,” Angel spoke up. Another wounded flock member.

“I was just getting to you, Ange. Did you discover anything?”

“Yeah. I found out that the African art collection here is on loan from the H. Gunther-Hagen Foundation. I didn’t know the doctor liked art, did you?”

My day was now officially ruined.

Chapter 24

24

AFTER OUR ART INSTITUTE DIVERSION, I decided to go back to normal lesson plans to avoid the element of surprise — i.e., not knowing answers to my own questions. Control and I, after all, were likethis.