T WAS HOURS later when Iggy jolted us out of Dr. Hans’s Fun House.

“What’ve you guys been doing all this time? Online poker? You sure are … into it.”

“Playing a video game,” Fang answered, hiding the document on the computer desktop. Even though the other kids had seen a lot of freaky stuff in their lives, it was still our instinct to protect them from anything that might overload their quota of nightmares.

“You’re lying through your fangs,” Iggy accused.

Fang tried to play innocent — but “innocent Fang” is an oxymoron, so it didn’t work.

“That reminds me,” Angel called over to us from the couch. “I have a video for you, Max!”

She skipped to her bedroom and brought out a backpack that she turned upside down. Out dropped a clogged travel-size hairbrush, an iPod Shuffle, and a CD in a linty transparent sleeve.

“I found it in my bag a few days after we got back from Africa. It has your name on it, but I don’t know how it got there — I swear.”

I didn’t have a good feeling about this, but curiosity got the better of me and I popped the CD into the computer right away. I’d drill Angel later about why she “forgot” to give it to me until now.

When I clicked “play,” my not-good feeling got much, much less good.

My favorite finger-chopping foe smiled at me from the screen.

“Hello, Max,” Dr. Gunther-Hagen began. I braced myself, as Fang stood behind me with his comforting hands on my shoulders.

You ran out a bit quickly today, and I was so excited to be demonstrating my work that I never had the opportunity to give you some of the more important reasons why I know you would find it very rewarding to work with me.

As I’m certain was apparent from what you saw and learned of my limb-regeneration project, I am the world’s leading expert on stem cell research, bar none. Growing an organ in a dish and implanting it is rather an elementary process for me and my team compared to limb regeneration. In fact, I’ve been successfully implanting organs grown from subjects’ own tissue for a number of years. Were you to join forces with me, doors would open up for you and your flock.

He paused dramatically.

“For example, wouldn’t one of your boys love” — he reached to his side and slid a cloudy jar into view of the camera — “a brand-new pair of these?”

He picked up the container so the camera could focus on it.

Floating inside was a human eyeball.