“Angel?” I said. “Baby penguins eat a regurgitated mixture of partially digested fish, krill, and an oily substance from their fathers’ stomachs. Are you willing to eat a bunch of raw fish and krill, and then barf it back up into a baby penguin’s cute, cheeping mouth? Like, every hour?” Sometimes my crushing logic astounds even me.
Angel bit her lip. “Hm,” she said. She straightened her small shoulders and walked away with dignity. Another disaster averted.
Leaving me with only Fang’s adoration of Brigid Dwyer to really get stuck in my craw. (What is a craw, anyway? I’ve always wondered.)
I watched as they worked side by side, his dark head almost touching her blond one. They knelt in the snow, and at one point the brilliant scientist couldn’t unscrew the lens from her special camera. She needed the help of a superstrong fourteen-year-old bird kid. Her smile when Fang opened it was almost as blinding as all this freaking snow.
Just then, Akila strode by on her way to where Michael was working. She was followed by Total, who had to trot a bit to keep up. I barely heard part of what he was saying.
“I admire a woman with a career,” he said, his breath making puffs in the air. “I’m very modern that way. Strength is an admirable quality. . . .”
The back of my neck twitched. Standing up, I cast a hard 360 all around us, shading my eyes from the intense sunlight. We had to wear sunglasses all the time, even Iggy. The bright sun here, reflecting off the snow and ice, could permanently damage our eyes.
“Max — check it out!” said Nudge as she and the Gasman ran up to me.
I held up one finger, meaning wait.
Something was wrong. The horizon was clear. The sky above and around us was empty. Even using my raptor vision, I couldn’t detect anything moving toward us over the ice. I looked again and again, examining the ocean, the land, and the sky. Anything coming at us from any angle would stick out like a pork chop at a vegan convention.
I couldn’t see a thing.
But something was wrong. There was a threat somewhere.
The flock was now aware of my unease, including Fang, who immediately stood and looked around himself. Iggy instinctively came closer to the rest of us, moving unerringly over the rugged terrain.
Fang completed his surveillance and raised one dark eyebrow at me. I shrugged and frowned. We both stood still, using all our senses to assess our safety.
“Fang?” asked Brigid. After another look at me, Fang turned and went back to her. I tried to focus on the neat shell Nudge was holding out, and the large tooth of something that the Gasman had found.
But I could only give them half my attention.
Something was wrong, and sooner rather than later, I would find out what it was.
49
You are reading Fang’s Blog. Welcome!
You are visitor number: 723,989
Yo, faithful readers. You know, when I was a kid, my big ambition was to someday not live in a dog crate. Some kids aim high, I don’t know. But here’s a thought, for those of you who haven’t decided on a big ambition: How about being a scientist?
I know, we all think Bill Nye the Science Guy. Or maybe Dr. Bunsen Burner from that kids’ show with the Muppets. But being a scientist (not the evil kind, obviously) can be awesome. I know, because I’ve met some non-evil scientists recently.
Right now we’re working with a bunch of scientists that rock the house. One of them is only a little older than me, and not at all geekified. I have to say, a chick who’s super smart and super brave, dedicated to her work, wanting to help people, save the world — well, there’s nothing hotter than that.
So if you’re not a total wastoid, consider checking out science. We’re gonna need all the help we can get to save what’s left of the planet. It’ll be up to us. We’ll need to have some real skills, real tools. Remember my “Useful Jobs” list from before? There were a lot of jobs on it that could help us in the future. Put down your air guitars, quit pretending to walk down a fashion runway. Go review it.
Slimfan3 from Jacksonville writes:
What about all those guys who were after you?
Well, Slimfan3, either they haven’t found us yet, or they all got wiped out. Either way, the past week has been a primo vacation. If you like cold weather.
— Fang
MissLolo from Tulsa writes:
Are you and Max gonna get married anytime soon?