Chapter One

"Run away?" Minion echoed when his young master revealed his whispered idea that afternoon while in yet another round of undeserved time out. He blinked, not quite able to believe his fishy ears. "As in escape? Sir, I know it wasn't very nice, what the other kids told you during recess, but if the whole problem is this Naughty List thing, don't you think that running away will... well, be really naughty? That'd ruin your whole good behavior record, not to mention blowing the point of trying to avoid getting on The List."

The boy's blue face fell, his expression so sad that Minion immediately wanted to change tactics and declare this the best idea ever. He was a sucker for those huge green eyes and the expressive little person behind them, so pathetically desperate for any affection or approval, Minion wondered for the millionth time how any living thing could be so callously immune to it. He was about to offer some kind of consolation when his master sighed. "Yeah, I guess you're right, it's a lame idea. But I wasn't thinking of doing it permanently, just for one night, so I wouldn't be in the prison on Christmas Eve. That's not very naughty, is it?"

"I don't think so," Minion admitted. "But you know what happens when people get time off for good behavior and then break parole. Doesn't matter if it's big or small, one violation and it's back to prison. If you run away even for one night, you'll get the warden angry, and then this Mr. Claus would probably stay away from you no matter where you are, because you'd broken the rules. From what they've been saying, it sounds like he doesn't cut any slack even for first offenders."

From the sound he made, the someday-to-be Megamind (who was currently known by an assortment of designations, the most common and least derogatory of which was simply Blue) conceded the point, even as he wondered how the other kids — most of whom had done naughty things to him at least once a day all through the school year — could maintain that they had been good enough to have earned the coveted visitation right and special gifts. Once again, there were probably different standards in play because he was a blue-skinned illegal alien. "That's true," he admitted in a small voice, smaller than his already low whisper. "Nobody around here ever gives me a break, even when I'm being good."

Minion felt as if his heart would break if he didn't say something encouraging. "That's not completely true, sir. I do. If you really want to try this, I'm with you all the way..."

But Blue smiled sadly as he shook his head and patted Minion's sphere. "No, you were right, it was a dumb idea. Maybe next year, if I can stop screwing up so much in shool, I can ask the warden to let me out on a one-day work release or something, for extra good behavior, and be out of the prison on Christmas Eve so I can have a chance to meet this Mr. Claus and see his inventions."

Minion grinned, so glad that Blue was making plans for the future that he didn't bother to correct his mispronunciation. He knew that beyond a point, all the correction in the world wouldn't make any difference, since some of his more persistent errors came from a combination of his English being self-taught and slight physiological differences that made certain sounds difficult for him to master. "That's a wonderful idea, sir," he said enthusiastically. "If the warden was willing to let you come to school as a reward for six months of good behavior, another whole year of it should be more than enough to earn you a day pass."

It was an even better reward, Minion thought, to see the gleam of buoyed hopes in his master's emerald eyes and the genuine smile on his face. Blue remained quiet through the remainder of his time out, but his mind was active with ideas and plans that he might use to achieve his coveted goal. Though his plans didn't always meet with the desired results, no one could fault Blue on his ability to pick himself up, dust himself off, and try again.

School was almost over for the day by the time Blue's exile to the corner ended. As he and Minion quietly slipped into his desk at the back of the room, the teacher, Ms Driscoll, was making an announcement as she had two of the children distribute sheets of red paper to all the students. "As all of you know, today was to be our final day of class before the Christmas holiday, but tomorrow, as a Christmas Eve treat, Lord and Lady Scott have generously arranged to take us all on a special field trip to see the new mechanized toy collection at the Metro City Science Museum. You will need to bring the permission slip at the bottom of the sheet with you, signed by your parent or guardian. A bus will be here to take us to the museum at the beginning of school tomorrow morning, and will return us here in time for your parents to pick you up at two o'clock. I expect all of you to be on your very best behavior — and remember to write a thank you note to the Scotts during the holiday break. Are there any questions?"

The girl handing out the papers on his side of the room literally threw Blue's copy onto his desk, as if coming too close to him would infect her with some fatal disease. As he read the announcement, which gave all the pertinent details for the outing, Blue had several particularly burning questions: Does the warden know about this? Will I be allowed to go, too? What does "dress nicely" mean? But he was afraid that if he dared to ask, Ms Driscoll would remember how much she disliked him, and would decide that he couldn't come, just because he'd bothered her. The idea of a field trip of any kind was positively intoxicating, especially to a child who seldom saw the outdoors and had never before been permitted to travel farther than the little schoolhouse, but to a Science Museum...! The very thought made Blue fairly dizzy with excitement and apprehension. Would he actually be allowed to go?

With that very much in mind, he stayed very still until the teacher had dismissed them, then attempted to slip out to the prison bus as quickly as possible, before someone asked if he had to come on the field trip and spoil it for the rest of them. He could tell from a few looks that were being shot his way that some of his classmates were thinking it — the Scott boy in particular — but as long as nobody said it out loud, it was easier to ignore them.

Unfortunately, he didn't move quickly enough. As he was about to reach the door, Ms Driscoll was there, blocking his way, a scowl on her face and a yellow slip of paper in her hand. She thrust the note in Blue's face, as she did almost every day. Though he tried to smile in an apologetic way, it wasn't enough to convince her to that just this once, she might change her mind and not force him to take home another humiliating Note from the Teacher, detailing everything she felt he had done wrong that day. Gingerly, with a half-hidden sigh, Blue took the Note, certain that as soon as the warden saw it, that would be the end to his hopes of a field trip.

Once back at the prison, Blue was required to report directly to the gate guards, so they could check him for any contraband he might have picked up during the day. Blue knew it was routine for all inmates when they were traveling to and from the prison for court dates or on work release, and he didn't really mind, since some of the guards were nice enough to ask him about his day, and at least pretended to be interested when he told them. He handed over his school books and papers, the yellow Note right on top. The guard knew what it was at once. He shook his head with a sigh and pointed. Blue knew what that meant. With a sigh of his own, the boy took back his things, collected Minion, and followed Movement Officer Davis down the hall to the warden's office.

"So what trouble did you get into today, Mr. Blue?" Warden Thurmer asked even before the Note crossed his desk. In some ways, Blue felt a little less out of place when dealing with the guards and prison officials, who called everyone by "mister" and his last name. Since that only required one name, it not only made him feel less self-conscious about his lack of a real one, but it also eliminated the other unkind names people were inclined to add.

Blue knew the drill, since the teacher sent him home with at least one note nearly every day. While Officer Davis went to stand near the door, Blue carefully set Minion and his other things on the warden's desk, then slid into what the inmates called the Interrogation Seat, a hard wooden chair that faced the warden across the veritable sea of his wide desk. Blue's feet dangled far off the floor, and he hung his head as he studied his hands, folded in his lap. "I got mad at some of the other kids during recess — but I didn't start a fight, honest!"

The warden's answering, "Mm-hm," was obviously skeptical, but he read the Note to get the teacher's side of the story. "Says here that during recess, you tried to bite Jennifer Osgood..."

Blue's head snapped up, eyes full of indignation. "I did not!" he declared hotly. "She bit me — and then she went around screaming that I tried to poison her 'cause my blood isn't the right kind of red!" In proof, he pulled back one orange sleeve to display what were plainly bite marks on his thin forearm, some of which had punctured his skin and showed small spots of dried purple-pink blood. Thurmer was no medical examiner, but even he could see that the bite wasn't self-inflicted, or made by Blue's piranha-toothed fish.

"Why did she bite you?" the warden asked.

"Because I called her a liar and wouldn't take it back," Blue said after a few moments' hesitation. "She bites when people don't do what she wants."

"And why did you call her a liar?"

This time, Blue squirmed in the chair, his cheeks flushing faintly purple as his eyes went back to studying his hands. He didn't want to say anything about what had started the whole incident, the kids' discussion of Mr. Claus and the whole business of the Naughty List, partly because that stupid Wayne Scott had been first to declare Blue a lifetime candidate for it, and partly because he was afraid the warden would confirm it. He carefully stuck to the business with Jenny Osgood. "She... she said that people who live in prisons are all monsters, and I had to be the worst monster of all 'cause I was born there. I told her I wasn't born here, but she said that's why I'm blue, 'cause I'm a real monster, and she got all the other kids to start calling me names, so I started yelling that she was a big fat ugly liar, an' she didn't like that, but I wasn't gonna stop until she did, an'..."

His voice got smaller and smaller as he tried to shrink into the chair and disappear. He knew that when he started yelling, his voice could get really loud and shrill, enough to make people's ears hurt. He'd been warned about it before, and now he was probably going to be punished but good for going back on his promise to stop doing that. He reconsidered mentioning the things the other kids had said about the prison and the Naughty List, but he decided that it would just make him sound like a babyish whiner. He bit his lip instead and fell silent, waiting for the axe to fall.

For what felt like a long time, the warden said nothing, and Blue figured he was sunk. He heard papers rustling from the direction of the desk — probably the warden pulling out the forms to get him sent to Segregation for the next month. Well, there went any chance of going on that field trip.

But when he finally spoke again, Warden Thurmer sounded more disappointed than upset. "That makes four notes this week, Mr. Blue," he said, sternly but not angrily. "I know Ms Driscoll has her favorites and you're not one of them—" Even the waiting guard snorted at this gross understatement. "—but that means you have to be just that much more careful when the other kids egg you on. Didn't we have this talk just last week?"

Blue nodded miserably. Yep, Segregation for sure.

Instead, the warden sighed. "All right, then. I'll have a talk with Ms Driscoll about this Osgood girl biting you. Doesn't seem right for her to get away with biting other kids."

The boy's big green eyes got bigger. He hazarded a glance in the warden's direction without lifting his head. "Does — does that mean I'm not going to Seg?"

Thurmer snorted, one corner of his mouth quirking into a half-smile. "No, you're not going to Seg. The guards there are busy enough, this time of year." His expression suddenly became stern. "But I don't want to see any more notes about you yelling in school, got it?"

Blue nodded vigorously, relieved. "I won't, sir, I promise, sir, thank you, sir." He was so splutteringly earnest, the warden had difficulty suppressing a smile.

"I'll hold you to that, Mr. Blue. Now, what's this?" He held up the red field trip announcement, reading it even as he asked the question. "A trip to the Science Museum? Tomorrow? You know that this should've been brought in at least a week ago."

The boy frowned at this reminder of the rules governing his school attendance. He knew them well — as did Ms Driscoll, since she was constantly using them as reasons to punish and reprimand him. No doubt she was hoping that a last-minute request like this would guarantee his absence. "I didn't know about it until today," he said. "Ms Driscoll handed them out just before we left." He wondered if the other kids had been kept in the dark as well. Probably not. That would explain why he had actually been given one of the flyers; nobody expected he'd be allowed to come, anyway. Under the hurt he felt at being excluded once again, anger began to bubble.

But it had barely begun to simmer when the warden let loose a breath that wasn't exactly a sigh. "Sounds just like the Scotts," he sniffed, none too impressed by the wealthy couple who pretentiously referred to themselves as Lord and Lady. "Always pulling these last-second stunts to get attention." He glanced at Officer Davis as he set down the paper. "Do we still have the boxes of stuff the staff's been collecting for the children's shelter?"

The guard nodded. "Kowalski and Brenner were planning to take them over after their shift tonight. It's a better haul than we took in last year. Seven full crates of toys and clothes."

The warden's eyes slid back to the small blue boy still slouched in the visitor's chair. He looked at the field trip announcement, then at the teacher's note, then back at the boy, whose right sleeve was still hitched up on his slender arm, the bite mark partially visible. Now, rumor had it that Warden Thurmer hated Blue because he was both a kid and an alien, but the truth was that he had a soft spot for the boy. When Blue had first landed in the prison, Thurmer had looked into the possibility of getting him moved to an orphanage or into foster care, but after seeing the reactions of over a dozen social workers, nuns, ministers, and other do-gooders when they got one look at the blue-skinned baby, he decided that Blue was safer here than he might have been anywhere else. The inmates didn't view him as a side-show freak, a potential science experiment, a means to acquire tabloid fame and fortune, or a spawn of Satan come to life, and his presence actually got a few of them to improve their behavior a bit.

Even so, Thurmer worried about the influence the more hardened criminals might have on the all too impressionable alien child, and did what he could to provide the boy with exposure to more normal society. Sadly, he knew it would be limited, because there was simply no way to hide the fact that Blue was... well, blue . Ms Driscoll's private school had the benefit of being small and close to the prison, and she had claimed to be willing to overlook Blue's obvious differences when enough cash was waved under her nose. But she was a self-important and prejudiced idiot, impressed by the Scott boy to the point that she allowed him and his parents to practically run the school. Thurmer had a sinking feeling that this would all end badly for little Blue, but for now, he was willing to overlook the less serious of these schoolhouse incidents and give Blue a shot at finding some measure of acceptance by his peers — especially if it meant throwing a wrench into Ms Driscoll's narrow-minded war against the alien boy.

He drummed his fingers on the papers for a moment, then came to a decision. "Well, with it being the holidays and all, I think we can bend the rules a little, just this once. And just maybe there're some clothes your size in one of those boxes that'll be a little more suitable for a trip to the museum."

Blue's bubbling temper cooled off at once; his eyes widened with disbelief as he sat up straight in his chair. "You mean — you mean I can go? Tomorrow? With the other kids?"

The warden nodded, his expression grave, though Davis recognized the sham and grinned behind the boy's back. "Only if you give me your solemn word to be on your best behavior, Mr. Blue. Because if I hear one word that you were the cause of any trouble tomorrow, I will put you in Seg until next Christmas. Got it?"

"No, sir!" Blue was so shocked and excited, for a moment, he didn't know what he was saying. His larger than normal head was reeling as he tried to accept that not only would he be allowed to go on the field trip, but he was also going to get the first civilian clothes he'd had since he'd outgrown the things he'd been wearing when his parents placed him in his escape pod. "I mean, yes sir, I got it! I won't get into trouble or do anything bad or anything, sir, I promise!"

The warden snorted softly as he pulled out a pen to sign the permission slip. "Well, I've heard that before," he admitted, not really accusing the boy, just acknowledging the truth. He favored Minion's sphere with a sidelong glance. "Maybe you'd better take your little friend there with you," he suggested. "You'll make sure he stays out of trouble, won't you, Mr. Minion?"

The fish nodded with his entire body. He didn't make a habit of talking in front of most humans — too many of them freaked out and tried to smash him when he did — but Minion and the warden had a strangely comfortable relationship, as they had one goal in common: keeping little Blue alive and out of trouble. "Yes, sir!" he replied enthusiastically. "But I'm sure Sir means it when he says he won't do anything bad!"

"I'm sure he does, too," Thurmer allowed. "But having a little added insurance never hurt. Things happen."

Both Blue and Minion knew the truth of that only too well. No matter how hard Blue tried to fit in, no matter how much he tried to do things that would make friends, he always wound up the odd one out — with the emphasis on odd. The boy didn't quite know how to respond, and was relieved when the warden motioned for him to collect his things and follow Officer Davis back to his cell. "I'll have my secretary go through the clothes and pick out something you can wear tomorrow. One of the guards will bring it over before lights out."

"Thank you, sir," Blue said, his smile for the warden one of genuine gratitude. "I won't let you down, even — even if I have to jump off the bus to stay out of trouble!"

Thurmer rolled his eyes, thinking just how much trouble the boy would cause if he did jump off the bus, but he kept the observation to himself, and waved his dismissal. When the door was closed, he shook his head and laughed, wondering if there was another prison anywhere in the universe with such... unusual disciplinary problems.

Out in the corridor, Blue clutched his books and Minion's globe to his thin chest, his entire face positively glowing with joy and excitement, his huge eyes shining with delight. "We're going, Minion!" he exulted, keeping his voice to a gleeful whisper, mindful of the rules governing prisoner movement. "On a field trip, to a science museum! Can you think of anything more... more... more pestacular? "

Minion grinned toothily and rolled about in his sphere in his own display of excitement. He never spoke while they were in movement, but he was so thrilled to see his master happy, he wouldn't've corrected his pronunciation even if they'd been alone in their cell. He just hoped the following day turned out to be as spectacular as little Blue was expecting.

All things considered, he should have known better.