So, if Klaus proved of little value to the quantum computer project, maybe he would end up mining for cobalt shoulder to shoulder with Emmanuel and all the other wretched children from the village.

  “Maybe you should’ve packed a pick and a shovel,” Yahav sneered as the Land Rover kicked up a cloud of dust and roared through the mining company’s open gates. Security guards, armed with rifles and machetes, quickly closed and locked the gates behind them.

  Yahav eased off the accelerator and slowly drove his prisoners to a long, half-circle aluminum building.

  “Welcome to your new home, boys,” he said. He looked up at the rearview mirror so he could smile at the terrified boy in the backseat. “Vihaan, this is your lucky day. My boss, Dr. Zimm, and his very wealthy associates are going to welcome you with open arms.”

  “Wait a second,” said Klaus. “Who’s this Dr. Zimm? Is he the benefactor?”

  “Ha!” laughed Yahav. “Hardly.”

  “So, you don’t work for the CMI? You’re not here to protect me?”

  “Nope. To be honest, Klaus, I never was. But don’t worry, boys. I’m told the Corp has set up everything you two might need to build them one of those quantum computers Vihaan’s always babbling about.”

  “B-b-but that was all theoretical hypothesizing,” stammered Vihaan.

  “Which you can now turn into the real deal.”

  “And if I can’t?”

  Yahav shrugged his shoulders.

  Then he did that finger-slice-across-his-throat thing again.

  62

  “Max?”

  Max knew someone was calling her name, but she had drifted off into a daydream about forests of spinning solar paneled wind turbines.

  This could work throughout sub-Sahara Africa, where, for many, having a power outlet inside their dwellings would instantly turn them into dream homes. There would also be new economic opportunities. New businesses. The CMI project could expand to Tanzania, where only 15.3 percent of the population has access to electricity. Niger. Sierra Leone…

  “Max!”

  It was Charl and Isabl.

  “We have a problem,” said Isabl.

  “Kabila?” asked Max.

  Charl shook his head. “This is worse. Yahav kidnapped Klaus and Vihaan.”

  “What? Are you certain?”

  “Quite,” said Isabl. “As you may have guessed, neither Charl nor I have totally trusted Yahav since that incident at the Einstein Archives.”

  “We suspect he has been secretly working as a double agent for the Corp,” added Charl.

  Max closed her eyes. The Corp. The bad guys. They’re baaaaaack.

  And they had her friends!

  “We need to rescue Vihaan and Klaus.”

  “It won’t be easy,” said Charl. “The Corp, clearly, has friends in this vicinity.”

  “You think they might have something to do with what happened here?”

  “It’s a possibility,” said Charl. “Anyway, late last night, after we discovered Kabila’s dirty work, we placed a GPS tracker under the bumper of Yahav’s Land Rover.”

  “It’s even more sophisticated than this one,” said Isabl, showing Max a microchip on the tip of her finger.

  “What’s that?”

  “We found it hidden in an object of Einstein memorabilia in your suitcase, Max. The solar-powered figurine that taps the side of his head.”

  “That was a surprise gift from the CMI staff back in Jerusalem. After I was chosen as the first finisher.”

  “No, Max,” said Charl. “We suspect it was given to you by only one member of the staff. Yahav. He used it to track your movements for his new employers, the Corp.”

  “So, this means Vihaan and Klaus are in danger because of me.”

  “They are in danger because Yahav has betrayed us all.”

  “But we know where he took Vihaan and Klaus,” said Isabl. “The cobalt mines.”

  Max was shocked to hear that. “The cobalt mines? Do they need more child labor?”

  “Doubtful that they’d turn to members of your team for that. We believe that Vihaan and Klaus were randomly selected because they suddenly became the most snatchable targets.”

  “Because I sent them off on a supply run,” said Max with a sigh.

  “And Yahav volunteered to be their driver. They’re trying to scare us off. The Corp isn’t too keen on the CMI doing good in their corners of the world.”

  Max felt horrible.

  If she hadn’t been so stubborn, if she had called it quits when everybody else, including Charl and Isabl, had wanted her to, Klaus and Vihaan would be safe now. They all wanted to leave Africa after Kabila (or was it the Corp?) trashed the solar power project. Well, everybody except Yahav. He wanted everybody to stick around the Congo for a few more days so they could go sightseeing.

  Wait a second, thought Max, having another aha moment.

  If the Corp only wanted to scare the CMI out of Africa, Yahav wouldn’t’ve made that ridiculous suggestion.

  “This isn’t just about scaring us out of Africa or slowing us down,” said Max.

  “What do you mean?” asked Charl.

  “There’s something bigger going on. Otherwise, Yahav would’ve agreed with you guys when you said we should pull up stakes and head back to Jerusalem.”

  Isabl turned to Charl. “She’s right. Why didn’t we see that?”

  Charl grinned. “Because we are not Max Einstein.”

  “So, what do we do, Max?” asked Isabl.

  “We go rescue my friends.”

  Max realized she’d just learned something new: Once you found friends, you had to protect them, too.

  “How do you propose we rescue them?” asked Charl.

  “I don’t know. Not yet. I need to do some serious thinking.”

  But the thinking would have to wait.

  Because a Toyota pickup truck loaded with half a dozen masked and armed men came rumbling into the village square.

  63

  The leader of the small militia slowly climbed out of the passenger seat.

  Max’s knees felt a little wobbly. Kabila was back.

  At least that’s what she thought until the leader whipped off his head scarf.

  “I am Roland,” he declared to the small crowd of villagers gathered in the square. “I am the new boss at the mine. Forget Kabila. Your children now work for me!”

  The new boss had an ample belly but thick muscles and a neck that looked like a stump. Max should’ve been afraid of the glowering man. But she wasn’t. She took a step forward.

  Charl raised his arm to block her.

  “Max?” he whispered. “Don’t provoke him.”

  “I won’t. I just want to go over there and do a little research.”

  “Fine,” said Isabl, resting her hand on her holstered pistol. “We’ll go with you as your research assistants.”

  Max marched over to where Roland stood beaming majestically in the center of the village square. Charl and Isabl marched two feet behind her.

  The big man, Roland, was now strutting around, trying to intimidate anybody who dared make eye contact with him.

  “Excuse me, sir,” said Max, looking him straight in the eye.

  “What? Who are you?”

  “My name is Max Einstein.”

  “Ah, yes. You are the troublemaking girl. The one who tries to turn the sunshine into electricity. The one who fills these foolish villagers’ heads with silly ideas. My friends at the mine told me about you.”

  “Good to know,” said Max. “Did they tell you I don’t like bullies?”

  Roland laughed again. “I don’t care what you like, little girl. And who are these people behind you with the puny weapons? Your parents?”

  “We’re her security detail,” said Charl.

  “Part of it, anyway,” said Isabl.

  “Oh?” said Roland. “You have your own militia? You are a little warlord?”

  “Something like that,” said Max. “You took two of my people.”

  “What?”

  “You kidnapped Vihaan and Klaus.”

  “Not me. That was the crazy Israeli. The one with the wild hair and evil eyes. He works for the mine owners, too.”

  “We want our friends back. What are the ransom demands?”

  Roland shrugged. “They do not want ransom. They want the two boys and their brains. Something about building a supercomputer. At least this is what I heard. I thought this was ridiculous. Why build a computer when we can come down here and steal yours? And we will. If you continue to interfere with mining operations. If these children do not show up for work, you will pay a heavy price. So will they.” He turned to face the small, sad-faced crowd of curious villagers gathered in the square. “There is a new boss at the mine. You will obey me, or your children will suffer. You will obey me, or your children will die!”

  Satisfied that he’d terrified everybody he came to terrify, Roland hiked up his camouflage pants and looked ready to leave.

  Max took another step forward.

  “So, tell me, Roland, what happened to Moise Kabila? How’d you take over his job? Did you slay le diable? Did you kill Kabila?”

  Roland laughed. “Didn’t have to. He was charging too much. I made a better deal with Weber. Now I am the big boss and poor Kabila has to collect tolls on the road to Lubumbashi. They’re stealing cell phones. But guess what? They can only charge them one at a time because they have only the one phone charger in their truck!”

  Roland laughed.

  Max smiled.

  Because she was having another aha moment.

  64

  Roland revved the pickup’s engine a few times, just to make certain his exit was as noisy and dramatic as his entrance.

  After the vehicle thundered out of the village, Max turned to Charl and Isabl.

  “We need to pack up your Land Rover.”

  “With what, exactly?” asked Charl.

  “One complete solar panel kit. One complete wind turbine kit.”

  “And where are we taking them?” asked Isabl.

  “Straight to Moise Kabila,” said Max. “I’ve heard rumors that he’s having trouble charging his cell phones.”

  “Max?” said Charl. “What are you thinking?”

  “That the enemy of my enemy is my friend,” she said. “Excuse me. I need to have a quick team meeting.”

  She hiked over to the open field where the six remaining CMI kids were working with the newly arrived solar panels, setting them up to create Siobhan’s micro-grid.

  “You guys?” said Max. “Bad news.”

  “What?” said Keeto. “We’re eating bugs for dinner again?”

  Max shook her head. “No. This is serious. Klaus and Vihaan have been kidnapped. Yahav is a spy. A double agent.”

  “Who’s he working for?” demanded Siobhan.

  “A bunch of greedy bad guys who call themselves the Corp. They’re, basically, for everything we’re against and against everything we’re for.”

  “How much is the ransom demand?” asked Annika. “I’m confident our benefactor can afford to pay it, no matter the amount.”

  “If he can’t,” added Tisa, “my father will.”

  Max shook her head. “They’re not interested in money.”

  “I thought you said they were greedy,” said Keeto.

  “They are. But they’re playing the high-tech long game. They’re not looking for a quick payday.”

  “So, what do we do?” asked Tisa. “My father has many contacts and business associates here in the Congo. He knows military people, too. Perhaps he could be of assistance.”

  “Thanks for the offer,” said Max, “but we need to move faster than that. I have an idea. I just need a couple volunteers.”

  “Will there be butt-kicking involved?” asked Keeto.

  “Not really,” said Max. “More like diplomacy.”

  “Oh. Okay. Soft power’s cool, too. Count me in.”

  “Me, too,” said Tisa. “Africa is my home. I want our work here to succeed. I also miss Vihaan. And Klaus, of course. Vihaan more, but, well…”

  Max actually smiled. “Charl and Isabl will be coming with us. They’ll be armed, like always. But I think the folks we’ll be visiting on our diplomatic mission might have more weapons.”

  “And, uh, who exactly is that?” asked Keeto.

  “Moise Kabila and his men.”

  “So, there might actually be some butt-kicking. Only the butts being kicked will be ours?”

  “I hope not,” said Max.

  “Whatevs,” said Keeto. “I’m still in.”

  “Me, too,” said Tisa.

  Thirty minutes later, the Land Rover was loaded up with the two power-generating kits. Max, Tisa, and Keeto climbed into the backseats. Isabl took the wheel. Charl rode shotgun. Literally.

  “So how do we find Kabila?” asked Keeto.

  “We take his toll road,” said Max. “And hope the toll collectors are on duty today.”

  Isabl piloted the vehicle down the rutted road to Lubumbashi. It was empty for ten miles.

  And then they reached a roadblock.

  Seven masked men, two with rifles raised, all with ammunition belts crisscrossing their chests, stood in the middle of the road in front of their parked vehicle. Their small truck straddled both lanes, making the roadway impassable.

  “Here we go,” said Max as Isabl eased the Land Rover to a pebble-crunching stop. Max yanked up on her door handle.

  “I’m coming with you,” said Charl.

  “No,” said Max. “Wait here. They outgun us. I just hope we can outtalk them.”

  “Then I’m coming, too,” said Tisa, pulling up on her door handle. “You might need a translator.”

  She and Tisa stepped out of the car.

  “Salamu, ndugu,” said Tisa, speaking Swahili.

  One of the men laughed and racked his rifle.

  “We are not your brothers, little girl! We are your worst nightmare!”

  65

  Well, thought Max, at least one of our worst nightmares speaks English.

  “Uh, hi,” she said to the men running the roadblock. “Is Mr. Kabila here?”

  “No,” said the leader of the gang.

  “Too bad. We really need to talk to him.”

  “About what?”

  “Oh, all sorts of interesting stuff. Like, for instance, I understand you guys are collecting a ton of cell phones out here but you have to charge them one at a time? And you have to burn precious fuel in your cars and trucks to do it.”

  “So?”

  “So, we might be able to fix that for you.”

  While Max talked with the man she pegged as the head of the roadblock crew, one of his masked associates started making a slow circle around the Land Rover.

  Max kept talking.

  “Plus, we heard about Roland. How he low-balled you guys on the mine security job. Which is fine. Because bullying kids around and making them do horrible work isn’t really a career with a very bright future. Now if you got in on the ground floor of a whole new venture, say, the fair-trade garment business, well, the sky’s the limit. Anyhow, we thought Mr. Kabila might be interested in a deal.”

  “A deal?” said the armed man. “With who?”

  “Me. Us.”

  “You?” He looked at Max and Tisa skeptically. “You are little girls.”

  Max smiled. “With very big brains.”

  “What is in the crates?” demanded the man who had been inspecting the Land Rover. “What kind of cargo are you transporting to Lubumbashi?”

  “Oh, that’s not cargo. That’s a gift. For Moise Kabila. Please take us to him. We want to give him our gift and make all of your futures very, very bright.”

  After several tense minutes of heated debate (in Swahili), the pirates decided they would escort the CMI “diplomats” up into the hills for a one-on-one meeting with the devil himself, Moise Kabila.

  “Fine,” said the leader. “We can kill you up there as easily as we can kill you down here.”

  “Thanks,” said Max. “Appreciate that. Not the killing part, just the offer to take us to Kabila. Lead the way!”

  She and Tisa hurried back to the Land Rover.

  “I hope this works,” whispered Isabl when everybody was safely inside the vehicle.

  “You and me both,” said Max.

  The Land Rover bounced up a rock-strewn path, following the land pirates’ truck.

  Nobody said a word. Max could hear her heart trying to beat its way out of her chest.

  Finally, after fifteen very rough and tumble minutes, they pulled into Kabila’s camp.

  The enraged warlord stood waiting for them, his fists firmly planted on his hips. An army of three dozen heavily armed men stood behind him.

  Max, Tisa, and Keeto climbed out of the Land Rover.

  “You children dare demand a meeting with me?” Kabila roared.

  “Yes, sir. Sorry to disturb you, sir, on your day off, but, well, I think we can work out a deal.”

  “A deal? Ha! What could you possibly offer to me? You made a mistake coming up here, little girl.”

  He motioned to his men. They raised their weapons, each one targeting a different member of the CMI team.

  Max didn’t back down.

  “I am here today to offer you unlimited power, not to mention the love and devotion of people all over Africa.”

  Kabila flicked his hand.

  Weapons were lowered.

  “Unlimited power?” he said.

  Max nodded. “Electricity, sir. Enough to power all those cell phones you’ve been collecting.”

  “Plus any computers, DVD players, and Xbox consoles you might’ve picked up over the years,” added Keeto.

  “And this power will be a renewable resource,” said Tisa. “As long as the sun shines or the wind blows, you will be able to plug in all your gadgets.”

  “You can light up the night,” said Max. “You can warm your food. You can refrigerate perishable items and pump water without having to hike to the nearest well. You can also start new, totally legal, completely legit business ventures. The future is yours!”

  “What about this love and devotion?” asked Kabila. “How does your electricity bring me that?”