James Patterson - The Final Warning

Instead we got Transformer-bots with trays, underGozen’s watchful laser eyes.

They gave us a variety of food, apparently never having fed mutant bird kids before. We had oatmeal, sandwiches, fruit, bread, a bowl of dog kibble, which Total pushed towardAkila, and…

“Oh, my God!” Nudge squealed, removing the cover on a tray. “Oh, my God!”

“What? What?” I hurried over, hoping for chocolate.

Instead I was confronted with a large bowl of… well, birdseed.

“It’s just seeds!” Nudge said. “Not even like a granola bar. It’s birdseed! ”

For a couple seconds we all just stared at one another, and then we cracked up, really howling with laughter.

“Oh, God, no!” I said, holding my bruised ribs. “Don’t make me laugh!”

“Nummy!”Gazzy said, poking the seeds with his finger. “Could I get some worms with this?”

“Stop! Stop!” I begged.

Even Fang, who as you know is Mr. Personality, was actually laughing out loud, bent over, his hands on his knees.

“What? Seeds?”Iggy asked, feeling the contents of the bowl. “Is this really birdseed? ’Cause we’re birds? ”

I nodded, tears running down my cheeks. I gasped for air, saying “Ouch” with each breath. “I’m nodding,Ig.”

“This is too much,” Fang wheezed. “Too much! Birdseed! Oh, God.”

“What’s for dessert? Caterpillars? ” I said, barely intelligibly. This set off a new round of shrieking laughter.

“This sandwich isn’t half bad,” Total said, his paws up on the table.

“Did they bring us a bunch of nesting material?”Gazzy asked. “’Cause I’m beat.”

More laughter. Angel almost fell onto her hurt arm.

The door opened, and we tried to whip ourselves into fighting form but failed miserably. This was one way they’d never tried to subdue us- with laughter.Akila immediately got to her feet, ears back, head lowered. She looked pretty scary, but all I could do was try to swallow my giggles.

Gozenstood in the doorway, watching us with his glowing blue eyes. “You will not find the rest of the day amusing,” he said. “Follow me. The auction is about to begin. As is the hurricane.”

Fang and I looked at each other with “huh?” faces. What hurricane?

“Question,” I said, raising a finger. “What auction are we talking about? And did you just say hurricane? ”

Gozenhad turned toward the door, and now he turned back. “TheUber -Director is auctioning you off to the highest bidder. He expects you to bring a great deal of money.”

“I’m flattered,” I said. “What are we being sold for?”

“Whatever they want.”

Okay, that wouldn’t end well.

“And the hurricane?” I asked. Wasn’t the end of hurricane season, like, November? How could there be a hurricane now?

“There is a Category four hurricane about to make a direct hit on Miami,”Gozen intoned. I wondered if worry had been programmed into him, and decided probably not. It would just get in the way.

“Uh-huh,” I said. “Does anyone seem, um, concerned about that? Category four is one of the big ones, right?”

“The city has been evacuated,”Gozen told us.

“But not us?”

“No.” He opened the door and gestured to it.

Fang went first, the others falling into line behind him, me bringing up the rear. I was almost out the door when my gaze fell on the bowl of freaking birdseed, and I cracked up all over again.

CONSIDERING I’M NOT the world’s youngest executive, I sure have been in a lot of corporate conference rooms. They’re all pretty much the same: big plate glass windows; huge table, usually rectangular or oblong; large potted plants; thick carpet;rolley chairs.

This one had a wall of flat TV screens, and something that I’d never seen before: a transparent person, with his organs and stuff in clear Plexiglas boxes, and his head attached to one by an almost-bare spinal cord. He was sitting- or stacked, more accurately- in a customized wheelchair.

He saw all of us staring at him, and wheeled silently over the carpet toward us.

“I am theUber -Director,” he said, his voice a lot likeGozen’s: with human but slightly odd inflections, and also a barely detectable mechanical quality. Looking closer, I saw that his guts and stuff were surrounded by and connected to machine parts- hoses, pumps, electronic things. And yes, it was totally as gross as it sounds. If I hadn’t already seen a million incredibly gross things in my life, I would have barfed right there.

His voice had enough expression to convince me that he had a colossal ego jam-packed into hisHabitrail body. Great. I thought this day had been a little lacking in megalomaniacs.

None of us said anything- no leaping forward with outstretched hands and big smiles. I guess we just weren’t raised right.

“I’ve been concerned with you for quite some time,” he went on.

“That makes… almost one of us,” I said.

UnlikeGozen, the UD could smile. Or frown. “I find you very… interesting. From a scientific viewpoint, of course.”

“Uh-huh,” I said, staring at him in fascination. “I have a bit of scientific curiosity myself. Listen, how do they keep your boxes clean? Like, with an aquarium vacuum, or what?”

TheUber -Director had been gifted with the blush response to anger, and now his waxy cheeks mottled with a yucky purple color that would put me off plum pudding for the rest of my life.

He glared atGozen.Gozen took several quick steps toward me, raising his oversize arm. I leaped onto the table, wings out, ready to fly around like a bat out of hell just to freak them out. Outside, strong winds pummeled the windows, and heavy rain all but obliterated from view the tall buildings around us. The thunder and lightning were constant. Yep, looked like a hurricane, all right.

Gozenfroze.

I looked down at theUber -Director. He was staring at me with a mixture of outrage… and hunger.

“Uh, you okay, UD?” I asked. “Is it okay if I call you UD?” I looked atGozen. “Is he okay? Does he need a feed bag hooked up or something?”

Gozenlunged for me, but I jumped backward. His powerful fist, the size of a ham, crashed down on the table, bouncing me slightly. The table splintered, and I skittered to the other end. I knew my flock was on alert, and I took a second to glance atBoxBoy. His head was leaning to one side, as if he was tired, and I got the impression that if he had hands, he would have been rubbing his brow.

“Enough,Gozen,” he said softly, and just like that,Gozen straightened and backed up until he stood stiffly against one wall. If only I could getGazzy andIggy to obey orders like that.

“Get off the table,” the UD said to me. “The auction is about to begin. Once the monitors are on, you will all be silent.”

I heardGazzy stifle a laugh.

TheUD’s eyes met mine. “Do you have anything to say before the monitors are activated?”

“Yes.” I kept a straight face. “A hamster called. He wants his home back.”

I HAD TO hand it to whoever was running things: They’d learned to take regular humans out of the equation. We’d always beaten them, confused them, gotten through them somehow. Which was why we were left withBoxBoy, the Incredible Humorless Hulk, and a bunch of Transformer-bots.

With a slight electronic crackle, the wall of TV screens came to life. One by one, their screen snow was replaced by a person. There were both men and women, in all kinds of settings. The one thing they had in common was that they all oozed power like radiation. Clearly they were looking at screens of their own- I saw their eyes dart around, linger for just a second on the UD with a hint of distaste, then fasten on us.