“And how does this person get out of Heathcliff?” Ms. Holiday asked.

Dr. Kim smiled. “That’s the most important question, right? We don’t want our hero floating around inside of Heathcliff for the rest of his or her life. We’ve created a timer system for the miniaturization process. We’re going to set it for two hours, which should be plenty of time to complete the mission. When the time is up, the agent should be inside one of Heathcliff’s pores or in his nostril or mouth. Then the process reverses.”

“Why a timer? Why can’t one of us flip the switch and just make the agent big again?” Brand asked.

“We may all be infected by then,” Dr. Kim said. “It’s a backup plan, in case no one’s capable of operating the ray gun.”

The crowd was quiet for some time before Brand spoke. “Will this work?”

“I believe it can, if things go well,” Dr. Kim said. “But it’s not without obstacles. First, Heathcliff’s body had to go through massive mutations to make his head this enormous. Organs, skeletal structure, the entire cardiovascular system have been moved in all directions to make room for his massive brain. And then there’s the problem of who to send.”

“That’s already settled,” Brand said as he hoisted himself onto his feet with the help of his cane. “I’m going to do it.”

“Alexander, you can’t!” Ms. Holiday said. “Send me. I can handle this.”

Brand shook his head. “I can’t lose you.”

“I’ll go! That would rule!” Toad cried. The rest of his friends volunteered as well.

“This argument is moot,” Dr. Kim said. “We have to assume that almost everyone in this room is infected with the nanobytes. We can’t send anyone in that might succumb to its effects.”

“Well, how do we know who has it?” one of the other scientists asked. “We tried to do blood tests, but someone deleted half the results.”

“They were tampered with?” Brand scowled. “I was told it was some sort of computer malfunction.”

“It’s starting to look like someone intentionally destroyed the records,” Dr. Kim said.

“But who?” Ms. Holiday asked. “And why?”

“Someone is infected and doesn’t want us to know. He or she may already be in quarantine, or it might be one of us. We’ll have to worry about that later,” Dr. Kim replied. “For now, there’s only one person who we know for sure is safe from the virus.”

Every head in the room turned toward Flinch.

“Agent Flinch is our only candidate. He is immune to the infection,” Dr. Kim said.

“I am so jealous!” Jessie cried, his breath whistling. “Do you have any idea what the potential for juvenile delinquency is inside a body?”

“I’m not going,” Flinch said. “I’ve been the team leader now three times, and each time something crazy has happened. Paris is a disaster, they’re still trying to get the Empire State Building back to its original size, and Hollywood—well, Hollywood is weird already. But anyway, I’m not good with the pressure. My brain is too scattered. The more sugar I take to fuel the harness, the harder it is for me to think. What if I get in there and screw up? What if I accidentally hurt Heathcliff? No way. There has to be someone else.”

Brand put his hand on Flinch’s shoulder. Flinch looked up into his boss’s face and could see him struggling with what to say. The man wasn’t good with words. He could take out an entire army of terrorists but often lost the battle to say something inspiring. He looked straight into Flinch’s eyes and said one word: “Tough.”

“Huh?”

“Tough!” Brand shouted. “So it’s hard. So you’ve made some mistakes! You know what? Everyone does. That doesn’t mean you don’t have to go and do your job. Flinch, I’ll admit, I kept you in the background because you’re unpredictable. But during the past week I’ve learned to respect that unpredictability. Your plans may not always be the best in the beginning, but when the crazy stuff happens, as it always does, your mind can adapt faster and more creatively than any person I have ever met. So listen, you’re in charge. Don’t give me any nonsense about how you don’t feel confident. It’s time to save the world, Flinch. That’s what you do.”

“Was that a pep talk?” Flinch asked.

Brand frowned. “Get in the containment suit, buster.”

Flinch was strapped into a harness and lowered into one of the containment suits, and then the remaining science team locked it closed. A number of electronic panels lit up along Flinch’s arms and chest. The tips of his fingers glowed, as did his feet.

Dr. Kim handed him a helmet with a clear visor to protect his head. “The feet and hands of the suit have propulsion tech so that you can motor about—they work like Matilda’s inhalers and should help you move through the bloodstream. And don’t forget the harpoon guns on the side of your arms and legs for tethering yourself. Use them sparingly. There’s only so many feet of cable at your disposal.”

Flinch turned his head and saw a huge pack strapped on the back of the suit. “What’s that?”

“That, my friend, is fruit punch,” Dr. Kim said. “It runs into the helmet via a tube. There aren’t any vending machines inside Heathcliff, so you have to bring your own fuel. I’ve calculated your daily sugar intake, which happens to be quite frightening, and have estimated how much you will need for two hours.”

Ms. Holiday stood nearby. Her face was dark with worry.

“No cupcakes, Ms. Holiday?” Flinch asked.

“I don’t think this is the best idea, Julio,” the librarian said. “Be careful.”

Flinch promised he would.

“Dude, you have to be the coolest kid we know,” Jessie said as he and the rest of Flinch’s new friends gathered around him. “Do you get to do stuff like this all the time?”

Flinch thought for a moment. “Yeah, I guess I do.”

“Where do we sign up?” Toad croaked.

“Good luck, bro,” Wyatt said, handing Flinch a can of black spray paint.

“What’s this for?”

“You’re going somewhere no human being has ever gone before,” Hooper said. “You should leave your tag.”

Flinch tapped a button on the front of his chest plate, which opened a compartment just big enough for the can. He grinned, thinking about marking the inside of Heathcliff’s skull with the words FLINCH WAS HERE!

He put on his helmet, and the scientists pulled the chains to hoist him over the tank. “Agent Flinch, this is Benjamin,” Flinch heard through his com-link. “Can you hear me?”

“Loud and clear,” Flinch said.

“Good,” the little blue orb’s voice said. “A thought just occurred to me. They say if you want to stop the bad guy you have to get inside his head. This time they mean it quite literally. Good luck, Agent.”

The scientists lowered Flinch into the tank. There was a dramatic dip in temperature, and he shivered until his body adjusted. He was halfway submerged when he suddenly plummeted to the bottom.

“What’s going on?” he asked as he peered through the saline and the tank’s glass. He saw some kind of commotion, though it was difficult to make out.

“It’s nothing,” Brand said. “One of the scientists is showing symptoms. The others have him under control.”

Flinch took a big swig of fruit punch and felt the sugar race through him. “OK. I’m ready. Let’s get pequeño!”

“Good luck, Julio,” Dr. Kim told him, and then she turned on the beam. He wasn’t sure what to expect, but he certainly wasn’t prepared for it to slam into his body and nearly knock him out. This was followed by a wave of cold all around him that made his teeth chatter. Then he felt as if he were falling off a cliff. He opened his eyes, but nothing looked familiar. The tank was gone, as were the hazy forms of the scientists and his friends. He was awash in fluid. He tried to swim but could do nothing but flop about in the thick and syrupy liquid.

“You still with us, Flinch?” Brand’s voice came through his com-link.

“Loud and clear, sir,” Flinch said. “Did it work?”