“Yes, C-Threepio?” I said politely.
“Walk.” The Flyboy pointed at the throng, then took a step toward us.
Well, you don’t have to threaten me twice. We quickly headed into the crowd and started pacing along with the rest of them.
I was keeping my eye out for Max II, who, last time I’d had a close encounter with her, had been trying to kill me and had narrowly escaped being killed by me. In case she wasn’t a ‘let bygones be bygones’ kind of gal, I was braced for the worst.
“So is this what prisons will be like after Re-Evolution?” Angel asked, holding my hand. “With the collars and everything?” She rubbed the one around her neck, its green LED blinking every two seconds.
“I guess so,” I said, resisting the urge to tug at my own collar. “I guess they have these things rigged up to shock us if we try to escape. They probably have tracers in them too.” Which was why we hadn’t done an up-and-away as soon as we got out here.
“How come they’ll still have prisons, after half of everyone is dead?” Nudge asked. “I thought people would quit fighting for stuff. I thought the future people would be perfect. If they’re perfect, they won’t go around committing crimes, will they?”
“There,” I said. “Decades of psycho logic picked apart in three seconds by an eleven-year-old. Take that, modern science!”
And speaking of modern science, I was about to be confronted by one of its marvels. Or disasters. All depends on your point of view.
“Max.”
I turned quickly at the too-familiar voice. And there I was, pretty as heck, brown eyes, a few freckles, fashion challenged, and a bad attitude. Max II.
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“Gosh,” I said. “It’s like looking in a mirror.”
“Yeah,” she said. “Except I’ve had a bath recently.”
“Touché. So, me, how’s tricks?”
“What are you doing here?”
“Selling Girl Scout cookies,” I said. “Want some? The Samoas are terrific.”
Max II started walking next to us, and we kept pace with the crowd, moving in a big oval around the barren yard. I stayed on guard, in case she suddenly attacked me.
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“Baa,” Nudge bleated. “Baaa.”
I laughed, and Max II looked at me. “How can you laugh?” She gestured angrily at the walls, the guard towers, the armed Flyboys that stood around like remote-controlled puppets.
“Well, she baaed like a sheep,” I said. “It was pretty funny.” I patted Nudge’s head. “Especially with her lamby hair. Maybe I should call her Lamby from now on.”
Nudge grinned, and Max II got angrier. “Don’t you realize what’s going on? Where we are?”
“Uh, a honking big castle of evil in Germany?” I offered. “I’ve narrowed it down that far.”
Max II glanced around, as if making sure we weren’t overheard. Since we were shoulder to shoulder with a couple hundred other people, it was kind of a wasted gesture.
“This is the last stopping place,” she said under her breath, not looking at me. “Look around. We’re all rejects. They were trying to build an army out of us, but then they got the Flyboys to work. Now we’re obsolete. And every day, a bunch of us disappear.”
I studied her. “I’m sorry—did I miss something? Last time I saw you, you were trying to kill me. Are we friends now? Did I miss the memo? Now you’re clueing me in on the sitch?”
“If you’re against them, then we’re on the same side,” Max II said firmly.
She could have totally been lying, of course. In fact, it was safest to assume that she was. But her words were all too likely to be the truth.
“How long have you been here?” I asked her.