Okay, guys, gotta go. Global disaster to document, scientists to talk to. And it’s dinnertime. I’m guessing it’s not beef.
— Fang
46
“WHERE ARE WE GOING?” Nudge asked as we took off into the clear, crisp air.
“Just getting an overview of the area,” I explained. “A little recon. See what’s out here.” Since Sue-Ann’s death had revealed her to be a Bad Guy, I’d been extra cautious. Now we were gonna do a little looking around, in case we saw, like, a big trailer with “Bad Guys” written on the roof.
Fang was silent, flying a bit off by himself. I angled my left wing slightly and swooped closer to him. Things between us were still weird. I missed the old days, when our relationship was simple: each of us totally dedicated to constantly one-upping the other. That, I could understand.
“So I guess we can assume that Sue-Ann was sending updates of our whereabouts to someone,” I said.
He nodded. “Brigid’s trying to hack into her computer for more info.”
There was that name again. “Nudge should do it,” I said, trying not to show irritation.
“Yeah — if Brigid can’t get in, we’ll have Nudge take a whack at it,” he agreed.
“Can we go over the islands?” Gazzy called to me. “There’s a volcano in the middle of one! In fact, the whole island is the volcano.”
“Sure.” We arced smoothly in a huge circle to the left, heading away from the enormous continent of ice. It felt great to stretch my wings and suck in the cold, cold air.
“I can’t see anything,” Iggy said, sounding depressed.
“Maybe I could ride with Fang?” Total suggested, squirming nervously in Iggy’s arms.
“I can still fly,” Iggy said irritably. “I can still navigate.”
“Oh, so cool!” Gazzy shouted, pointing.
We’d left the peninsula behind and now were over an island shaped like a raggedy Cheerio with a tiny slit in one side. We began a long series of descending loops toward the island. We all kept our eyes open but saw no one else around.
“That water in the middle is where the volcano blew up,” Gazzy explained.
We got closer and closer. It seemed about as safe as any place could be.
“Thermal!” I said, feeling myself pass through a column of heavier, warmer air. It felt incredible, a pocket of warmth in the middle of the frigid air around us.
“Something’s bubbling below,” Angel said, looking down.
“Let’s check it out,” I said in my leaderly way.
We went lower, not seeing anyone else, and then landed on a moonscape of fine gray grit, small stones, a bunch of signs, and, oddly, a field covered with what looked like broken wooden barrels. It was unlike anything I’d ever seen before.
And soon it could all be gone.
So, you’re back, I thought to the Voice. Glad you could join us. Okay, maybe not glad, exactly —
Pay attention, Max, said the Voice. Memorize what you’re seeing. This place might not be here much longer.
So I guessed the Voice was on board with the whole global warming thing. I said, “Watch where you step, guys. Don’t get scorched by a geyser or anything.”
“There aren’t any geysers here,” said Nudge. “But steam is boiling up through the water.”
“There’s been a lot of people here,” said Fang. He stood in front of one of the many signs, in about eight languages, that warned us to be careful, to watch where we stepped, to not destroy any lichen or moss, to not litter, and so on. It was a protected spot, overseen by “the Deception Island Management Group.”
“Deception Island,” I said, smiling. “What a cool name. It sounds like where we should live.” I looked around at the surreal, unearthly place. “If we wanted to live in a barren wasteland.”