Max Einstein Saves the Future

by James Patterson

  “You’re right. Milk and dairy. They’ll need a cooler case for cheese and eggs and stuff.”

  Ms. Kaplan shook her head.

  “No, Maxine. What you are forgetting is this: You have been demoted. You are not in charge of this operation!”

  43

  “Come on, Max,” said Siobhan. “Let’s go help them pack up those banana boxes.”

  “Good idea,” said Tisa. “It’ll help take your mind off… other things.”

  Max nodded and did her best not to let anybody see how much Ms. Kaplan’s words stung her. She wasn’t trying to be in charge. She had just been having an idea, a brainstorm, and was eager to share it. Siobhan and Tisa were true friends. They knew what Max was feeling even without her having to tell them.

  “In two hours, we are due at the farm where we’ll be doing our fieldwork,” Hana announced, after checking the timetable in her Master Plan binder. “It’s a thirty-minute drive so we can spend another ninety minutes here.”

  “I suggest you all use that time studying the green tab in your binders,” said Ms. Kaplan. “Sustainable Farming 101. It will give you an overview of what we hope to accomplish during our time with the Carleigh family, who own the farm where we’ll be doing fieldwork.”

  “If it’s all right with you, Hana,” said Tisa, flashing her brilliant smile, “Max, Siobhan, and I are going to work with the food pantry folks and do some in-depth end-user research. It’ll give us, as you said, a better understanding of the true face of American hunger.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” said Hana. “I look forward to hearing your full report.”

  “And we look forward to giving it,” said Siobhan.

  Max couldn’t help but grin. Siobhan and Tisa were laying it on thick. Giving Hana exactly what she wanted to hear.

  The three friends left the Sunday school room.

  “Suck-ups,” Max whispered when she was certain Hana and Ms. Kaplan couldn’t hear her.

  “Hey, it worked, didn’t it?” said Siobhan. “We got you away from Ms. Kaplan.”

  The three went into a storage room where a volunteer showed them how to pack each box.

  “Every client gets the same thing,” explained the volunteer. “That way, there’s no squabbling. Thanks for helping out. I need to go work the window.”

  The volunteer left. And as they packed the correct number of cans and boxes and sacks into each cardboard carton, the three friends started to chat.

  “So why does Ms. Kaplan hate me so much?” Max wondered out loud.

  “I have a theory,” said Tisa. “You remind her of who she used to be.”

  “Huh?”

  “I bet, when she was our age, the young Tari Kaplan was full of idealism. She probably had all sorts of ideas about how to save the world.”

  “And that would make her hate me… because?”

  “Because,” said Siobhan, “Ms. Kaplan didn’t just grow up. She grew cynical. She probably thinks she was an eejit for ever thinking she could change the world.”

  “So she takes it out on you, Max,” said Tisa.

  “Interesting,” said Max. “So when, exactly, did you two get your degrees in psychology?”

  Her friends laughed.

  “We’re just bloomin’ brilliant,” joked Siobhan.

  When all the crates were loaded with the appropriate allotment of food, Max and her friends walked up the line of people waiting to pick up their emergency groceries. They introduced themselves. Listened to the hungry people’s stories. Shared some hugs and even a few laughs.

  Max met a girl named Sam who reminded her of a younger version of herself.

  “We both have boys’ names,” Sam said. “Makes us tougher.”

  “I guess so,” Max told her. “You know, I used to be homeless.”

  “Really?” said Sam, who looked to be eight or nine. “That’s so sad. We still have a home.”

  “We just come here to take a little pressure off our food budget,” explained Sam’s mom.

  “My mom and dad are smart,” said Sam. “They take really good care of me.”

  “And that,” said Max, with a smile and a breaking heart, “makes you a very lucky girl.”

  Because Max had never had a mom and dad.

  She never had a home of her own, either. Except, maybe, when she was a baby. Maybe then she had a house.

  On Battle Road in Princeton, New Jersey.

  Far from where she was standing now.

  44

  “Given current traffic conditions, we should arrive at the Carleigh family farm in approximately twenty-seven minutes,” announced Leo from behind the wheel of the CMI team’s van.

  “Any signs of a skateboard park, Leo?” asked Keeto.

  “Negative.”

  Keeto sank down in his seat. As a city kid from Oakland, he really wasn’t enjoying the whole “back to the farm” aspect of this CMI assignment.

  Max had a window seat in the rear row. When Leo stopped at a traffic light, Max’s gaze drifted over to a grocery store where an employee was pushing a cart loaded with fruits, vegetables, and meat packages to a dumpster. A coworker was already there, heaving bulging plastic bags into the big metal box.

  “You think they’re throwing away food?” said Toma, who had the window seat in front of Max and was watching the same scene.

  “Sure looks like it,” said Max.

  “What a waste.”

  Farther down the road, Max saw a restaurant worker repeating the same ritual: dragging a pair of fifty-gallon rubber barrels stuffed with food out to a dumpster where a busboy was already tipping trays full of leftovers.

  “Question,” said the ever-logical Annika, who’d also been watching the restaurant workers throwing away the heaps of food. “How can there be a food crisis in America when so much food is being tossed away by Americans?”

  “Pick up the pace if you can, Leo,” said Ms. Kaplan. “We don’t want to be late for our first meeting with our farming family. We’re expected at the Carleigh home in ten minutes.”

  “You want me to drive?” asked Isabl, the speed demon.

  “No, thank you,” said Leo. “I will increase my speed to the maximum allowable by law and road conditions.”

  “Do it now!” snapped Ms. Kaplan.

  The scenery outside the van’s windows turned into a blur of greens and browns. They were in farm country.

  Max couldn’t stop thinking about all that food she’d seen being thrown away.

  She filed the images away in the mental binder she was secretly putting together. She was working on a big idea.

  One she wouldn’t share with the CMI team.

  Because, as Ms. Kaplan had already reminded Max (at least twice), Max wasn’t in charge. She’d been demoted.

  And even for someone who never used to care about being in charge of anything (except her own life), that really, really hurt.

  45

  Professor Von Hinkle piloted his hulking black SUV down a rutted dirt road.

  The car bounced every time it hit a pothole. Von Hinkle was so tall, his head hit the ceiling at every bump in the road. The SUV’s churning tires spat up gravel and rocks, dinging and denting the vehicle’s undercarriage. Von Hinkle didn’t care. It was a rental.

  He had to take the back way to the Carleigh family farm in rural West Virginia—where Max Einstein was due to arrive at three o’clock—because he couldn’t risk his approach being observed by the CMI security team.

  His undercover asset had informed Von Hinkle that the duo known as Charl and Isabl were extremely well trained by Israeli security forces. They were also extremely well armed.

  And so he took the back roads only farmers took.

  A little after three, he would finally apprehend Max Einstein and the AI robot code-named Lenard and haul them both up to the Corp’s secret mountain hideaway in West Virginia.

  In a series of coded messages with his contact, Professor Von Hinkle had mapped out his snatch-and-grab attack in minute detai
l.

  The tactical team guarding the child prodigies would be lured away by a diversionary tactic to be determined once the asset assessed real-time conditions on the ground. Once the security personnel were removed from the scene, Max Einstein would be sent back to the group’s van (for her own safety), where Lenard would be seated behind the wheel. Professor Von Hinkle would be able to acquire both targets in one fell swoop.

  Luckily, West Virginia was a state that made it easy to purchase firearms. Early that day, Von Hinkle had purchased several of them.

  He may not have his fleet of drones, but he had a shotgun. Max Einstein would be his in under an hour if everything went according to plan.

  Which it had to.

  Because Professor Von Hinkle was the mastermind behind it.

  46

  The CMI van arrived at the Carleigh family farm a little before three in the afternoon.

  “Everybody out of the van,” said Ms. Kaplan. “Except you, Leo. Your appearance may shock Mr. and Mrs. Carleigh and their children.”

  “Yeah,” said Keeto, “that plastic face and hair still freak me out a little.”

  “Power down,” said Hana, flicking the switch on Leo’s back.

  “Pow-er-ring dooooooown,” slurred Leo as his head slumped forward and bobbled against the steering wheel.

  “Take it easy, Hana,” said Klaus, climbing out the sliding side door. “You could’ve permanently dented his forehead.”

  “Sorry,” said Hana.

  “Perhaps you should delegate some of your responsibilities,” said Annika. “Let Klaus handle Leo’s operation.”

  Hana ignored her and nodded toward the farmhouse porch where the Carleigh family—a mom, a dad, two sons, and a daughter—stood waiting expectantly.

  “Good afternoon,” said Hana, leading the group to the porch. Ms. Kaplan walked beside her. Charl and Isabl brought up the rear, scanning the vast fields for intruders and potential hazards. They patted their vests in that way they sometimes did to make sure their weapons were where they thought they were.

  “We’re from the Change Makers Institute,” Hana said to the farm family.

  “And we’re here to help,” added Keeto.

  “Thank you for dropping by,” said the farmer. “I’m Kurt Carleigh. This is my wife, Hannah. Our sons, Tyler and Quentin. Our daughter, Grace.”

  Hana quickly introduced the members of her team. She saved Max for last.

  “Max Einstein?” said Mrs. Carleigh. “Any relation to Albert Einstein?”

  “Hardly,” said Ms. Kaplan with a backward snort.

  Hana pressed on. “We wanted to talk to you about sustainable farming.”

  Mrs. and Mrs. Carleigh nodded.

  “We studied that in agriculture school at West Virginia University,” said Mr. Carleigh.

  “That’s where we met,” said Mrs. Carleigh, smiling and giving her husband a hug. Their kids giggled, which made Max smile.

  Hana just nodded and continued with her well-rehearsed speech.

  “Then, as you might recall from your college studies, the goal of sustainable agriculture is to meet society’s food needs in the present without compromising the ability of future generations, such as your children, to meet their own needs.”

  The famers nodded, maybe hoping Hana would finish her lecture and give them some practical tips on what they could do better. She didn’t. She plowed ahead. She talked about turning manure into fertilizer and using rainwater for irrigation.

  The farmers were starting to fidget. Mr. Carleigh checked his watch. His daughter started swinging her doll. The two boys looked like they wanted to run inside and play video games.

  “Wait a second,” said Ms. Kaplan. “Charl? Isabl? Did you see that?”

  “What?” said Charl.

  “Movement in the barn.”

  “Could’ve been one of our pigs,” said Mr. Carleigh.

  “We need to be sure,” said Ms. Kaplan. “Go check it out.”

  Charl and Isabl nodded.

  “You folks should probably go inside,” Isabl told the Carleighs.

  “Why?” asked Mrs. Carleigh, moving in front of her children. “What’s wrong?”

  “Probably nothing. But, to be safe…”

  “Come on, everybody.”

  The farm family hurried into their house.

  Charl and Isabl moved to the barn.

  “Max?” said Ms. Kaplan. “Head back to the van.”

  “Excuse me?” said Max.

  “Head back to the van! Now!”

  “Why?” demanded Siobhan.

  “If someone is in that barn,” said Ms. Kaplan, “chances are it’s the Corp, here to try to kidnap Max. Again.”

  “Then she shouldn’t be alone,” said Tisa.

  “Everybody gather around Max,” said Annika. “Form a circle.”

  “If they want Max,” said Klaus, puffing out his chest, “they have to go through me.”

  “And me!” said Keeto.

  “Uh, yeah,” said Toma, trying his best to be brave.

  All the teammates, including Hana, circled around Max and eyeballed the horizon, scanning it for intruders.

  “No!” said Ms. Kaplan. “Max is supposed to go to the van. Leo can protect her.”

  “Um, Leo’s shut off,” said Klaus. “Remember?”

  Ms. Kaplan tried to push the friends apart.

  “Back off, you bloody cailleach!” shouted Siobhan. “Leave Max be.”

  That’s when a black SUV suddenly appeared on a distant hilltop. It was maybe a half mile away.

  It gunned its engine and barreled through the swaying hayfield.

  Straight toward them.

  47

  Max pushed against her friends, who strained to hold her back. “Let me go! I’m pretty sure they want me alive.”

  She located the weakest link in the human fence penning her in and shoved Toma aside. She ran away from the farmhouse. The instant she did, the SUV changed its trajectory.

  Max ran another twenty yards. She wanted her friends and the farm family out of harm’s way.

  The SUV was maybe fifty yards away now.

  Max slammed on the brakes and dug in her heels. Then she propped her hands on her hips, thrust out her chest, and defiantly stared down the charging black bull of an SUV.

  Unstoppable force, she thought, meet immovable object.

  And, of course, while she stood there, solid as a rock, some part of her brain whizzed off to analyze that statement. If an unstoppable force exists, then no object is immovable; if an object is immovable, then no force is unstoppable.

  The driver of the SUV must’ve been having the same logic debate.

  Because they also slammed on their brakes, churned up chunky clods of sod, plowed a pair of fresh furrows, and skidded sideways. When the vehicle stopped swerving, its driver’s-side door ended up just ten feet away from where Max was standing.

  The door swung open.

  Out stepped a giant of a man with a huge, pineapple head. He was wearing a long black coat and toting a shotgun. Max recognized him immediately from her London briefing with Ben.

  It was Professor Von Hinkle. The new goon from the Corp. Dr. Zimm’s nefarious replacement. He stood at least seven feet tall in his chunky military boots, which were sinking into the muck of the hayfield.

  “Get in the vehicle, girl,” Von Hinkle grunted. “Now.”

  Max glanced over to the barn where Ms. Kaplan had sent Charl and Isabl. She saw a reflected glint up in the open hayloft. In her head, she quickly did some basic trigonometry and stepped two paces to her right.

  “I said, get in the vehicle!” snarled Von Hinkle, limping two feet to his left, matching her move.

  Max took another two steps. Once again, Von Hinkle mirrored her action. He was now eight feet away from his hulking SUV, putting him precisely where Max wanted him to complete a certain isosceles triangle.

  “I suppose you want Leo, I mean, Lenard, too?” Max asked calmly.

  �
�Yes,” sneered Von Hinkle. “I will go to the van and acquire him, too.”

  Max nodded. Of course Von Hinkle knew that Leo was sitting, slumped over in sleep mode, behind the wheel of the van. Because Max also knew who told Leo to stay there. The same person who’d just ordered Max to go wait in the van.

  The same person who’d been telling the Corp where they could find Max and her friends all along.

  48

  “I suppose you’ll want to grab Ms. Kaplan while you’re at it, too,” said Max in a voice loud enough for all her friends to hear it. “How long has she been working for the Corp? I bet it’s longer than she’s been working for the CMI.”

  Von Hinkle glared at Max. Then he turned toward the group clustered in front of the farmhouse.

  “Tari!” he shouted. “It’s time to initiate your extraction package. Move!”

  “She’s on their side?” shouted Klaus.

  “Blimey!” exclaimed Siobhan.

  “Stop her, you guys!” said Keeto. “Don’t let her get away.”

  Max saw her friends, including Hana, holding on to Ms. Kaplan. Restraining her from escaping.

  “Let her go!” shouted Von Hinkle, raising his shotgun and aiming it at Max’s chest. “Or little Miss Einstein dies.”

  Max’s friends immediately released their grip on Ms. Kaplan’s arms.

  “Foolish idealists,” she spat at them. “You’re wasting your time helping others when you should be helping yourselves!”

  “Like you did?” said Tisa.

  “Yes, ignorant child. Like I did!” She slogged across the field toward the SUV as fast as she could.

  “Oh, by the way, I’m sorry,” Max said to Von Hinkle.

  “For what?” He limped forward. “Causing that car wreck in England? Giving me this limp?”

  “Yeah. That. And what’s about to happen to your other leg.”

  “My other leg?”

  “The one with the red dot. Right there. On your thigh? See it?”

  There was a tiny laser point glowing on the right leg flap of Von Hinkle’s long black coat. It would be point A at the end of the hypotenuse of a right triangle where Isabl, up in the hayloft with her sniper rifle, would be point B.