“Well, sort of a science trip,” said my mom. “A science trip where you would work with scientists in a pretty remote place. We think it would be kind of fun for you guys, plus you would be useful to the scientists, plus this place is so remote that we think you’d be safer than usual while you’re there.”

“Huh.” This was an interesting idea. I’d been wondering what our next step would be, and here it was, being offered to me. My mom was actually recommending it to me, and unless she’d recently been replaced by an evil clone (possible but unlikely), that meant it was probably a good idea.

“Where’s this remote place?” Fang asked.

Mom grinned. “I’d like to keep that a secret until you’re almost there. To help you keep an open mind. And now I’d like you to meet one of the scientists.” She turned to gesture to a woman waiting by the plane’s entrance ramp.

The woman was a couple inches shorter than me, with blond hair in a single braid down her back. Though her face was unsmiling, her eyes roamed over us hungrily: the bird kids, the mutant freaks, something she’d never seen before. She blinked when Iggy put Total down on the ground, and I got the feeling she really hadn’t known what to expect from us.

But then, most people don’t.

“I’m Dr. Brigid Dwyer,” she said, stepping forward and holding out her hand. She seemed awfully young to be a doctor.

“I’m Max.” I shook her hand, and I swear, she looked at mine like it was cotton candy. Then she realized it was just a hand, and the excitement faded a little from her eyes. “What’s this science field trip about?”

She nodded to the jet. “I’ll explain once we’re on board.”

-Uh-huh. “How about you explain before we get on board?” I asked pleasantly. Yes, Mom had recommended it, but that didn’t mean I had gone brain-dead.

Since this was her first Max encounter, I gave Dr. Dwyer a couple moments to find her sea legs.

“Or we could all split now,” I clarified.

“Dr. Martinez” — she gestured to my mother — “has recommended you for a . . . rescue mission.”

“Do tell.” I crossed my arms over my chest, knowing that the flock was scanning the area intently for any signs of danger. “What — or who — are we rescuing?”

“The world?”

Chapter 27

27

I DON’T KNOW how many of you have been on private jets, but golly, they’re sweet.

“It’s a baby plane,” Angel whispered when we first got inside the dollhouse-like interior. “It’s going to grow up to be a seven forty-seven someday.”