“How about we all go to a restaurant called Restaurant du Zoo?” suggested Charl.

  “Ewww,” said Siobhan. “Du Zoo? What do they serve there? Fried rhino burgers?”

  Charl laughed. “Nope. Pizza. In fact, it’s considered the best pizza in the southern Congo.”

  “I’m on board,” said Annika. She, like the others, was a little tired of eating cassava, yams, plantains, and maize.

  “We should invite Emmanuel and his friends,” said Max. “The kids from the village. This project is only working because they pitched in to help!”

  That night, Max, her team, the kids from the village, Charl, Isabl, and Yahav piled into three Land Rovers and convoyed down to Lubumbashi. It took an hour to reach the restaurant, but Max didn’t mind.

  She was happy. No, joyous.

  The Restaurant du Zoo was located at the Lubumbashi Zoological Garden, which made the excursion even more fun!

  Max ate so much pizza, she dozed off on the ride back to the village.

  She was jostled awake near midnight when the small caravan pulled into Kasombumba.

  The Land Rover’s headlights knifed through the darkness.

  And spotlighted Emmanuel’s father, Patrick. He was standing in the village square, surrounded by Ms. Dayana and dozens of others.

  There was a terrified expression on all their faces.

  Max was the first to bound out of a Land Rover. Emmanuel was right behind her. They raced over to Patrick in fear.

  “What’s wrong?” asked Max.

  “Le diable,” said Patrick. “While you were all gone, Moise Kabila and his men came into the village.”

  “Are you okay, father?” asked Emmanuel.

  “Yes. They did not come for us. They came for those.”

  He pointed to a heap of shattered solar panels stacked in the village square. Their photovoltaic cells were splintered like crackled ice.

  They had been smashed by the battery packs, which lay in another pile with their insides ripped out.

  “They destroyed it all,” said Patrick. “Everything you came here to do. There is no more hope. No new economic model. Only more misery in the mines.”

  57

  “That’s it,” said Klaus. “We should pack up our gear and pull out of here. And Max—you should get back in touch with SEE. Cancel that order for new solar panels. Yours will just get smashed and destroyed like mine did.”

  “Totally,” agreed Keeto. “If that Kabila dude doesn’t want us here, we don’t need to be here. There were plenty of other red-hot trouble spots on that spinning globe back at CMI headquarters.”

  “But my father…” said Tisa.

  “… can find someplace else to plant his seed money,” said Klaus. “They won’t want him here, either.”

  The team, along with Charl, Isabl, and Yahav, had gathered at first light around the pile of solar power rubble that the warlords had left behind in the center of the village square. Feeling as crushed as the solar panels, Emmanuel and the other village children had shuffled off to the cobalt mines before the sun had even risen.

  “Keeto and Klaus raise valid points, Max,” said Annika. “It might be best to reassess this mission. Maybe we should regroup in Jerusalem. Find a new project.”

  “Or maybe,” said the fiery Siobhan, balling up her fists like she was itching for a fight, “we should go up into those hills and track down Mr. Kabila. Make him pay for what he did here last night.”

  “Violence is seldom the answer to violence,” urged Hana.

  “Especially since they have more weapons than we do,” added Klaus.

  Max didn’t respond. She was still soaking in the horror of what had happened. It looked even worse in the harsh morning light. A tangle of wires. A mountain of broken batteries. Mangled solar panels resembling shattered mirrors.

  “The warlord will, most likely, return,” said Charl. “The next time, he and his men may not be satisfied with destroying solar panels. They may come after you kids. As lead of the security detail, I say we pull out.”

  Max turned to him. “So, that’s it? We just quit? We run away and abandon these people to a fate worse than death?”

  “Yo,” said Keeto. “It’s better than us dying.”

  Max shot him a dirty look.

  “Just saying,” Keeto mumbled, defensively throwing up both hands.

  “We should leave,” said Isabl. “The environment here is just too toxic.”

  “I agree,” said Max. “It’s especially toxic for the kids working in those cobalt mines. Kids who might have a chance if we don’t run away.”

  That silenced everybody ringed around the rubble.

  Finally, Yahav spoke up. “Maybe we should just stick around for another day or two,” he said with a smile. “You kids haven’t really had a chance to explore the countryside. It’s really quite beautiful.”

  Everybody looked at Yahav.

  Their solar power project lay in broken pieces on the ground and Yahav thought they should all spend a few days sightseeing in the Congo?

  “I’m sorry, you guys,” said Max, “but I am the team leader and I am not ready to give up. I am also not ready to admit we can’t meet the Kenyan investors’ deadline.”

  “We only have two more weeks,” Tisa reminded her.

  “Well, that’s fourteen whole days. And until the benefactor orders us to evacuate, we’re staying.”

  “But success is practically impossible,” said Toma.

  “Or,” said Max, “maybe we just have to stick with the problem a little longer in order to solve it.”

  “I am not certain you can solve a problem like this one, Max,” said Toma.

  “Maybe not. But I think these villagers deserve for us to give it another try.”

  Max was thinking about all the setbacks and failures her hero had faced in his life.

  Albert Einstein spent two years trying, unsuccessfully, to secure a teaching post at a college.

  He started his career as a low-level employee of a Swiss patent office.

  Because he was Jewish, he couldn’t return to Germany after Hitler and the Nazis seized power.

  Einstein was, basically, a refugee—a man without a true home. Max could relate.

  But, throughout all these hardships, Albert Einstein’s mind kept working. His genius could not be deterred or defeated.

  Because he was even more stubborn than Max Einstein.

  “Failure is not an option,” Max told the group. “Neither is surrender. Like I said, we just need to find a new solution!”

  When she said that, a long convoy of eight cargo trucks pulled into the village.

  Max hoped they were carrying her solution!

  58

  Max couldn’t believe her luck.

  This is like a miracle in a movie, she thought.

  The eight trucks were carrying the brand-new solar panels, batteries, and cables from the nonprofit group SEE.

  “Which of you is Maxine Einstein?” asked the burly driver of the lead vehicle.

  Max raised her hand.

  “Please sign for your delivery.” He handed her a clipboard with a shipping manifest attached.

  Charl and Isabl sidled over. “Did you encounter any… roadblocks on your route?” asked Charl.

  The driver laughed. “Only one. Moise Kabila and his band of land pirates have erected a ‘toll gate’ a few miles east of here. To pass, we had to pay him off with eight cell phones. One for each truck.”

  “Was he interested in the cargo you’re hauling?” asked Isabl.

  “Not really. I’m not sure he knows what they are for. Then again, neither do I!”

  “Wow,” said Max when she saw the gear listed on the manifest.

  Everything they needed to replace what Kabila had destroyed was loaded onto these trucks. Solar panels, charge controllers, cables, AGM batteries, inverters, circuit breakers, the works. SEE had sent twice as much equipment as Max had requested. There were also some items on the list that Max hadn’t even asked for.

  “Wind turbines?” she said.

  “Sixth truck,” said the driver. “Two dozen.”

  “But we didn’t ask for any wind turbines…”

  “And I didn’t ask any questions about this cargo,” said the driver. “I just transport what they pay me to transport. You want me to cart them back to the airport in Lubumbashi? If so, you will have to pay me, too.”

  “No,” said Max, her mind already whirling with possibilities, “we’ll gladly accept delivery for everything they sent us.”

  “You see?” said Klaus, as the truckers unloaded more and more cargo. “This is why I didn’t want to work with the NGO. They send you things you don’t need…”

  “I thought you didn’t work with them because of their prices,” said Siobhan.

  “Yeah,” said Klaus defensively. “That, too.”

  Max slapped the manifest against Klaus’s chest. “Check it out. They gave us the turbines for free.”

  Klaus took the crinkled paper. “Probably because nobody else wanted them.”

  Max laughed. “They call themselves Smart Energy Everywhere, Klaus. Not Solar Energy Everywhere. They realize there’s more than one way to generate electricity when you’re completely off the grid and—”

  She stopped talking. A gust of wind blew off the floppy hat she was wearing and, without the shade of its brim, she felt the sun warming her face.

  “Of course…” she mumbled.

  She was having an aha moment similar to the one Dr. Einstein once had on an elevator. He imagined the car had snapped free from its cable and was plunging downward to the basement while he was floating upward. That terrifying thought experiment led him to a whole new definition of gravity.

  “Solar and wind!” she mumbled. “Two sources of energy are always better than one…”

  “What are you thinking, Max?” asked Hana.

  Max turned to Klaus. “That we’re going to need some mechanical engineering expertise.”

  Klaus’s eyes lit up. “You want me to build a robot?”

  “Not exactly. I need your help figuring out how to combine the wind turbines with the solar panels.”

  59

  “Excellent idea, Max!” said Keeto, fist bumping with her. “We set up twin power sources. Solar and wind. When it’s cloudy and windy, the turbines take over for the solar panels.”

  “When there’s no wind,” said Annika, “here comes the sun.”

  “Except at night,” cracked Keeto.

  “Right,” said Annika with a chuckle. “A very logical deduction, Keeto.”

  “Why, thank you, Annika.”

  The team was laughing and smiling again. There was nothing like a new focus to help them move on from the sense of defeat that had been delivered by le diable with his raid on the roof-mounted solar arrays.

  “And,” added Tisa, “instead of solar panels on the roofs of individual homes, we could set up a mini power station in that clearing over there.”

  “Which,” said Siobhan, “we link to a central micro-grid that will feed electricity, generated by the turbines or the solar panels, to all the homes…”

  “We can even store any excess electricity in all those batteries,” said Vihaan.

  “These are all good ideas,” said Max. “Because you guys are all geniuses.”

  “Too true,” said Klaus, puffing up his chest again. “Too, too true.”

  “But what if we could combine the two energy sources?” Max proposed tapping her head with her finger. “What if we could make the turbines generate power, even when the wind isn’t blowing?”

  “How?” joked Keeto. “Chop ’em up and burn ’em? We could use the heat to boil water and power a steam turbine.”

  “No,” said Max, as a thought experiment unwound in her imagination. “What if we were to line the individual turbine blades with solar panels? The turbines could become dual power sources! Wind and sun.”

  “What about the wires?” wondered Toma. “Wouldn’t they get all tangled up in the rotating blades?”

  “This where I need your mechanical engineering expertise, Klaus,” said Max. “We definitely need to figure out the wiring.”

  “Easy,” said Klaus. “Just like on a robot with rotating and articulating levers.”

  “We also need to design the solar panel blades so they don’t send out blinding beams of light like a whirling disco ball. And we don’t want them generating lethal, super-hot solar rays that could burn down the village if they beamed the wrong way.”

  “Not so easy,” said Klaus. “But I love a challenge.”

  “Me, too,” said Vihaan.

  “Perfect,” said Max. “You two are the Solar Blade Design Team.”

  “Can’t we be something cooler sounding, like the Whirling Dervishes?” said Klaus.

  “Fine by me,” said Max. “Call yourself whatever you want. Just come up with a workable solution. You guys, if we can pull this off, we’ll be able to deliver more consistent power to more places, no matter the local weather conditions. We could take these solar spinners and their renewable energy everywhere! What we’re doing here in Africa will just be the beginning!”

  “We’re on it,” said Vihaan. “We might need some supplies. Something to tint the reflective surface of the solar panels.”

  “And precision cutting tools,” added Klaus. “High-end adhesives, too.”

  Max nodded. “Sounds like you guys need to head over to Lubumbashi.”

  “With the CMI credit card,” said Klaus.

  “We’ll get it from Charl. I’m sure the benefactor will approve any and all charges.”

  “Good,” said Vihaan. “Because I’d like to pick up another one of those pizzas…”

  “I’ll take these two into town,” said Yahav, walking over, his rifle and ammunition belts slung across his shoulder. “And I’ll pack a few spare cell phones—just in case we have to pay Mr. Kabila’s toll on the way there and the way back.”

  “Uh, thanks,” said Max. She still was a little skeptical of Yahav, ever since the incident at the Einstein Archives, but she needed Charl and Isabl to stay at the village. Keep it secure. Yahav was her only option. “But, please—be careful. You’re carrying precious cargo.”

  “Don’t worry,” said Yahav. “I will.”

  What Max couldn’t know was that, moments earlier, Yahav had been in direct contact with Dr. Zimm.

  There had been a change of plans.

  Max Einstein was no longer the Corp’s immediate target.

  60

  “Bring us the boy,” Dr. Zimm had ordered Yahav. “The one named Vihaan. The Indian who is forever babbling on about quantum physics and quantum computers.”

  Dr. Zimm had eavesdropped on several of the CMI team’s late night campfire conversations, thanks to the “wire” that the boy Klaus was wearing (even though he thought it was just a panic button to contact Yahav).

  “What about the girl?” Yahav had asked. “What about Max?”

  “Her time will come. But for today, the Corp is demanding immediate results. They want this quantum computer. The boy will appease them. Bring Vihaan to the mines. Seize him at the next available opportunity!”

  “But I can just as easily grab the girl,” insisted Yahav.

  “No. She belongs to me. I will not have her genius squandered here in this desolate location. I need to take her home with me. I have better equipment. A better lab. A better research environment.”

  “When will that operation be a go? When will you snatch Max Einstein?”

  “Soon, Yahav. Very, very soon.”

  61

  “Whoa,” said Klaus, as Yahav yanked the steering wheel on the Land Rover and sent it skidding into an abrupt, dirt-churning left turn.

  “Lubumbashi is in the other direction, sir,” whined the quantum physicist Vihaan, rattling around in the backseat. “Kindly consult your GPS.”

  “I’m initiating evasive maneuvers,” said Yahav, coolly and crisply. He was doing his best to sound like the crack Israeli security forces member he used to be. “I don’t think Kabila will be as easy on you two as he was on that truck convoy. The toll for his road might prove to be much more expensive.”

  He slid a finger across his throat for emphasis.

  “Oh,” said Klaus. “So, uh, do you know an alternate route?”

  “Always,” said Yahav.

  “G-g-great,” said Vihaan, who was holding on to an overhead handle for dear life.

  As they rocketed along over potholes and deep dips, a group of weary African children came marching along the shoulder of the road. Some carried shovels. All of them were caked with the red dust of the cobalt mines.

  Yahav recognized one of the boys.

  Emmanuel. From the village.

  Klaus saw him, too.

  “Hey, isn’t that Emmanuel?” said Klaus.

  “Who?” said Yahav.

  “Back there. With that group of miners…”

  Yahav glanced over to Klaus and saw the gleam of understanding flick across his eyes.

  “Yahav?” said Klaus in a tone that suggested that the boy was the master and Yahav the servant. “Turn this vehicle around. Immediately.”

  “Sorry, Klaus. No can do.”

  “Need I remind you, sir, you work for me.”

  “And need I remind you that I know fifteen different ways to kill you without taking both of my hands off this steering wheel?”

  That seemed to startle the kid.

  “So, what, precisely, are we doing?” asked Vihaan.

  “I am following orders,” said Yahav. “You two are going to the mines.”

  “To dig cobalt?” blurted Klaus.

  That made Yahav snicker. It was obvious that the soft, sausage-loving boy had never done a day of manual labor in his life. Although maybe now he would get that opportunity. After all, Dr. Zimm really only needed Vihaan to appease the Corp. Klaus was what they called collateral damage. To nab Vihaan, Yahav had to exploit his relationship with Klaus.