“This isn’t going to hurt, right?” Olivia quavered.
“Just relax,” responded Ms. Voxen.
You didn’t answer the question, Olivia thought nervously as she watched Ms. Voxen return to her console and put on chunky sunglasses. Suddenly, Mr. Daniels and Brendan and Ivy were wearing sunglasses, too. They looked like some sort of deranged rap group.
“Commence VMG?” Ms. Voxen asked.
“Commence,” Mr. Daniels answered, and Olivia thought she was going to hyperventilate as Ms. Voxen reached behind her and pulled a huge red lever.
As far as Olivia could tell, nothing happened. But Mr. Daniels and Ms. Voxen started to lean over the console, whispering excitedly and pointing at the screen.
“Is this thing even on?” Olivia asked.
Mr. Daniels looked up briefly. “That’s a very interesting question, Olivia.”
Olivia thought that was a strange response until it was Ivy’s turn. The moment they turned the machine on with Ivy in the hot seat, Ivy’s eyelids closed and started fluttering.
“Is she okay?” Olivia asked anxiously from the side.
“Of course. She’s simply dreaming,” Mr. Daniels explained.
Ivy and I really are different, thought Olivia, impressed that a machine which had no effect on her could immediately put her sister to sleep.
When they were done with the VMG, Mr. Daniels led them through the laboratory on their way to another test. Near the center of the lab, Olivia passed a tall glass box displayed proudly on a pedestal. Squinting, Olivia could just make out two vertical hairs, stretched taut across a metal frame. The strands were labeled OLIVIA and IVY. It’s the hair Mr. Daniels collected at his house! she thought. How cool is that?
Over the next hour, she and her sister underwent one test after another. Neither of them had ever had an MRI before—they had to change into drafty gray gowns and lie totally still inside a huge aluminium tube that made ominous clanking noises. Olivia could just hear Camilla’s voice in her head, saying, “It’s the year 2030 and you are suspended in a cryogenic pod for your journey.”
They were given X-rays, too. Then there were exercise tests, which were so not fair. Olivia must have sprinted like two miles on her treadmill before she collapsed. Ivy hadn’t even broken a sweat.
Finally, Mr. Daniels led the girls back to where Brendan was sitting, waiting with their bags underneath a faded public health sign.
“I can’t thank the two of you enough,” Mr. Daniels said to Olivia and Ivy. “The results of today’s experiments could change the way we think about identical twins.” He winked at the girls. Around the lab, technicians were buzzing excitedly, comparing notes.
“Can you tell us the results?” Olivia asked eagerly.
Mr. Daniels shrugged. “It could take months, or even years, before we complete our analyses. In genetics, there are often more questions than answers. We’d like to have you back for more tests in one year.”
A year? Olivia thought incredulously. Ivy’s leaving in like three weeks!
She could tell Ivy was disappointed, too. Brendan just gave a little cough.
“Allow me to show you out,” Mr. Daniels said.
As Brendan stood up with their bags, he started to hack.
“Are you all right, Brendan?” his father asked.
Brendan nodded. “Just a little nauseous and dizzy,” he croaked. Then he staggered, and Olivia saw that his cheeks were pink.
Vampires only redden when they’re about to faint! she remembered.
The girls’ bags fell to the ground. Mr. Daniels lunged for his son as Brendan’s legs folded.
“Ms. Voxen! Mr. Azure!” he called, struggling to hold Brendan up. The technicians rushed over. Seeing Brendan, their eyes filled with fear.
“He must have been exposed to the V-rus!” Mr. Azure cried.
“He’s displaying all the symptoms,” Ms. Voxen agreed, her voice filled with panic.
“What’s the V-rus?” Olivia asked.
“It doesn’t concern your kind!” Mr. Azure cried, but Ms. Voxen poked him in the ribs. “I m-mean,” he stuttered, “those who never had . . . er . . . chicken pox as children.”
“Brendan, can you hear me?” his father asked desperately.
“Father,” Brendan replied in a dreamy voice. “Is that you?”
“Mr. Spackle,” Mr. Daniels called urgently to another technician, “get the V-rus treatment kit at once!”
As Brendan lay sprawled on the laboratory floor, Ivy stood staring at the sign that hung above where he’d been sitting: V-RUS PREVENTION AND
DETECTION. SYMPTOMS: COUGHING, DIZZINESS, PINKNESS, FAINTNESS, AND NAUSEA, it read in
huge faded red letters. She looked back down at Brendan, who was now surrounded by lab technicians. Between their legs she caught his eye—and he winked!
“Ooooohhhh,” Brendan moaned, shutting his eyes again. Next to his foot, the corner of a pink compact peeked out of Olivia’s open bag where he’d dropped it. He used blush to make himself look pink! Ivy thought.
She grabbed Olivia’s hand. “Let’s go,” she whispered, heading for the door.
“We can’t—” Olivia began, but Ivy threw her a meaningful look and then she caught on. “Oh, right . . .” she murmured, falling in behind her sister.
Olivia shut the door behind them and the commotion of Brendan’s “emergency” disappeared. Ivy crept up and peeked around the hallway corner.
At the other end, the lone, giant security guard stood with his arms crossed impassively beside the entrance to ASHH. The office’s doors slid open with a mechanical hiss, and Ivy quickly drew back. Slowly, carefully, she peeked out again.