Cash decided to start their drone search at the campsite where the hikers had vanished. It was the logical place to begin, a good spot with views, and the original helicopter landing zone was only half a mile away. The five other drone pilots were distributed in adjacent sections, for an initial coverage of six square miles of terrain.
Six square miles. One hundred and thirty-eight to go.
The helicopter dropped Cash, along with Stein and Gunnerson, at the LZ below the campsite. They hiked up, Stein carrying the drone in a special backpack. Maximilian had assigned them a security guard named Vanucci. He wore body armor and carried an AR-15 assault rifle.
They arrived at the campsite around ten a.m. Stein shed her pack and unzippered it to reveal the drone, batteries, and ancillary equipment packed in foam cutouts. Cash watched as Stein removed a launching pad, then unfolded the drone and placed it on top. She used a handheld console with two antennas and a screen to calibrate it. The drone woke up with various beeps and whirring sounds and flashing lights.
Cash was glad that Gunnerson was staying quiet and behaving himself. She thought she had smelled alcohol on his breath earlier, but he didn’t seem drunk. The guard, Vanucci, stood watch.
“We’re ready to launch,” Stein said.
“Tell me how it works—what to expect.”
“Of course. I’m going to fly a lawn mower pattern starting with the northern end of the grid and working south. When I hit a thermal signature, I’ll bring the drone into a hover to look down and see what it is. It could be an animal or a human being, or even something like a dark boulder warmed by sunlight or a hot spring.”
“And then?” Gunnerson asked. “What if they’re human?”
“They might be searchers,” said Cash. “That we can immediately determine because every search party has comms. If they’re not searchers, we call in the cavalry. Maximilian has a chopper standing by with half a dozen armed personnel.”
Gunnerson grunted his approval.
Stein held the console in both hands, thumbs on the joysticks. “Clear the LZ. Ready to fly,” she announced.
They stood back. With a loud whirr, the drone rose vertically and hovered briefly at ten feet before soaring higher. Cash tried to follow it with her eyes, but the drone quickly disappeared into the bright morning sky. Stein held the controls and was working the joysticks, peering at the image on the screen.
“Okay, right away, we got some nearby thermal signatures,” she said, peering at the screen. “Looks like … wow, mammoths.”
Cash and Gunnerson looked over her shoulder. The screen on the console was divided into two windows—infrared and visible light. The thermal side showed half a dozen bright yellow-and-orange blobs in a background of blue and green. The visible portion of the screen showed six woolly mammoths lounging in their accustomed area near the pond.
“Continuing on,” said Stein.
She flew the drone past the mammoths and over the lake, moving past the meadow on the far side and a forest of aspen trees beyond. On it flew, the thermal screen showing blurry blues and greens, the visible-light screen showing terrain.
“We’ve reached the edge of the search area,” said Stein. “I’m now turning and starting the search pattern … coming back on the first line. We’re going to proceed slower now.”
Again an endless sea of blue and green passed by on the screen as the drone flew along the northern edge of the section.
“Got another signature,” said Stein sharply.
Several orange-and-yellow blobs were moving next to the edge of a forest. When Stein brought the drone to a hover, Cash could see on the visible screen a buck and several does browsing vegetation.
“Mule deer,” said Stein, flying the drone onward. She carried the drone to the end and made another turn, bringing it back along line two.
“How long is this going to take?” Gunnerson asked.
“To cover this section, an hour maybe.”
“Can’t you fly it faster? You said it went fifty miles an hour.”
“That’s too fast for this complicated terrain—we could miss something. And we have to return it for a change of batteries.”
“Push it a little, for chrissake.”
Stein said, “I’m doing my best, Mr. Gunnerson. If you don’t mind, I need to concentrate.”
Gunnerson tightened his lips and reached into his back pocket, pulling out a silver flask. He unscrewed the cap, took a long pull, and slid it back.
Uh-oh, thought Cash.
A long time passed as Stein continued to fly the drone back and forth, working down the section with methodical precision. Another thermal hit proved to be a pair of gigantic glyptodons, and later, several elk.
“For fuck’s sake!” said Gunnerson. “This is going to take days! Goose it!”
Stein continued working the joysticks, ignoring him.
Gunnerson took another pull from his flask.
Cash turned to him. “Mr. Gunnerson? We’ve got a long day ahead of us. Can you lay off the booze?”
He looked at her with bloodshot eyes and without a word took another suck on the flask.
The minutes dragged on.
“How far along are we?” Gunnerson asked.
“About forty percent of the section,” murmured Stein, focused on the controls.
“Fuck.”
“A hit,” murmured Stein.
Cash peered over her shoulder, glimpsing some yellow dots on the blue thermal screen. Nothing could be seen on the visual screen but a dense forest of fir trees.
Stein brought the drone to a hover. The yellow blips were on the ground.
Stein lowered the drone close to the treetops, trying to get the right angle to get a visual down through the immensely tall trees. Cash counted half a dozen orange-and-yellow blobs, moving slowly on the ground, appearing and disappearing as they went. But on the visible-light screen, they could see nothing of the forest floor—it was cloaked in darkness.
Gunnerson, peering closely over Stein’s shoulder, said, “Go lower.”
She brought the drone right down to the treetops, but the trees were at least a hundred feet tall, and the forest floor remained in shadow. It was impossible to tell what life-forms were down there.
“Send it down in between the trees.”
“Too risky.”
Cash could smell the whiskey exhaling on Gunnerson’s breath as he peered intently at the monitor.
“There’s room between the trunks. Lower the drone down in there, damn it!”
“Mr. Gunnerson, please step back. I’m the pilot.”
Stein maneuvered the drone around the treetops, trying to find an opening in which to see down to the forest floor. The blobs stopped and gathered in a group.
“It looks like they heard it,” Stein said.
“Flush ’em out,” said Gunnerson. “Fly down and get ’em moving.”
“Mr. Gunnerson,” said Cash sharply, “back off now.”
Gunnerson stepped forward and reached for the console.
“Hey!” Cash yelled. “What are you doing?”
Stein, holding the console in both hands and working the joysticks with her thumbs, tried to move away and elbow him back, but Gunnerson lunged for the console. He grabbed it, and there was a short tussle as he tried to wrench it from Stein’s hands, but in the struggle, he lost his footing and fell, Stein yanking the console back. On the screen, Cash saw a blurry, thrashing image that lasted a second or two—and then, after a moment, the camera image came back into focus, revealing a stationary floor of pine needles.
“You just crashed my drone,” Stein said.