with thumbs, sure. But still. I was not impressed.
I flung the door open, immediately stepping in and to one side so my silhouette wouldn’t be framed by the light outside. Iggy had taught me that.
And… no one seemed to notice me. It was a—TV station? People were rushing back and forth. On one screen I saw films of the morning’s riots. On another I saw McCallum yapping as per usual. And in a chair, surrounded by three cameras, was McCallum. Or was it?
I moved closer, my knife dangling inconspicuously by my side. People were shouting at one another, but it was stuff like “Cut in the drone feed!” And “Patch him in live! Cut the numbers in half!”
McCallum was sitting in a chair, very still, his head nodding. I stayed back in the shadows, trying to sort out what I was seeing. Right now no one was paying much attention to him. Printers were spitting out long sheets of paper. There was a wall with at least twelve vidscreens all playing different things… and then you had—McCallum.
How could this be the same person who railed against the public twenty-four hours a day? He seemed so… low energy? And this close, he looked much older than he did onscreen. Suddenly a harsh spotlight clicked on and he bolted straight up as if electrified. His face contorted and the cameras moved closer as he, like, came to life to spout his usual crap—ungrateful citizens, everyone had a role to play in this successful city, he was gonna lower the price of dope to show he meant well.
“Cut in with the rabbits!” someone yelled, and on a couple of the vidscreens, a family of rabbits started keeping their eyes on a suspicious new family in their neighborhood. Even tiny Fluffums was on to them, and she could barely hop yet.
The light turned off and McCallum sagged again.
This was so freaking bizarre and unexpected and crazytown that for a minute I stood there, just staring. Then, as I circled warily, staying in the dim half-light, I saw a tiny, transparent wire going from his shirt collar up to his ear. Someone was feeding him—lines? Instructions? Dope?
I for one wanted to know who was at the other end of that wire. The studio was chaos, paper churned out of the printers at an alarming rate, but no one was reading them. The light was out where McCallum sat, the video of the bunnies playing on a loop. It looked like they were going to stay with that for the time being. So, I stepped up to the man in the chair.
He hung forward limply, his head sagging onto his chest. Who was he? He was weirdly familiar, and not just as the asshole who ran his mouth all the time. Who. Was. He? For some reason I kept picturing him on the vidscreen in the big room at the Children’s Home. I remembered a bunch of us watching… what was it? I gasped out loud when it hit me, but luckily everyone was too busy going batshit to care.
This guy—being McCallum—was Major Panda! I used to love Major Panda! He’d made up some fake animal that didn’t exist, then called himself that. Major Panda. McCallum, asshole supreme, used to be fun. Now he was a meat puppet being fed lines. From who? That was the question. Because Major Panda didn’t talk about lowering dope prices.
I ripped the earpiece out, the man in the chair barely raising his head as I did. And then I listened.
My mouth dropped open again. Holy shit! Oh, my freaking sun! That’s who is behind all this??
Suddenly, the lights around Major Panda’s chair came back on, fully exposing me. He sat up, whatever dope trip he was on ended by the flash of lights. I dropped the earpiece, opened my wings to their full capacity, swung in a big roundhouse, and kicked that dirty, rotten conspirator Major Panda senseless.
I bolted for the door, leaving a confused clot of aides to watch as I spread my wings, and sailed into the sky.
CHAPTER 107
Max
“There she is!” I yelled, pointing. The Flock and I were right below the gross clouds over the City of the Dead, looking for Phoenix. And, as the only flying creature larger than a vulture, she was easy to spot. Thank god she was flying and not somewhere on the ground.
In a tight vee, we dive-bombed to her level.
“Phoenix!” I shouted, and she looked up. Did she seem happy to