It helped a lot that Jorge Caitano seemed on his way to a rapid recovery, limping about, showing off his bandages and bragging about his encounter with some jungle beastie. That made the first expedition seem—on balance—more of a success than a disaster. Still, even in an urgent situation, with approval all but certain, the second foray couldn’t proceed without Council assent, and the soonest that could happen was tonight.
Anyway, we can’t set out till the big ramp is finished and there’s lots else to do first.
Meanwhile, Principal Jeffers did approve a group to make preparations, including Gracie, Alex, Dave, and Mr. Davis as faculty adviser. And Mr. Marshall, since the plan was to use three of his brand-new, hybrid SUVs. And Jane for her maps. And Helene, since there would be supplies to list now and requisition later, when approval came.
Chastened by the way her leadership had been rebuked over breakfast, Gracie started out sullen and downcast. But it didn’t take Alex long to draw her out, by citing several times she had made great decisions yesterday.
Yesterday? Was it really yesterday? Mark wondered if there would ever come a time when days didn’t feel like years.
“Okay then,” Gracie summed-up, crisply. “You’ll need both extra gasoline and deployable solar panels, to help recharge the hybrids with sunlight whenever possible, in order to keep gas use to a minimum.”
Mark noted that she used the word “you,” as if she intended to sit this one out. He refrained from asking directly, in front of the others. But he made a mental note to ask, in private. I just assumed she’d be coming. Even I don’t have anything like her experience at wilderness trekking, having grown up with parents who had their own PBS nature show.
“One of my mechanics came with us in the Garubis Snatch,” Mr. Marshall said. “And I’ll draft a couple of students I tutored for your high school’s auto shop class. We should have the vehicles ready by tomorrow morning, and we can help stow whatever supplies Helene sends over. Just try not to drive recklessly! These aren’t military tanks, you know. They’re all-road vehicles … and here there are no roads.”
He gestured to the Map, where everything they knew about the new world was displayed on a classroom whiteboard, with copies on their personal tablets. Jane Shevtsov backed her wheelchair away from the big version of the schematic she had spent most of last night creating, by compiling bell-tower measurements with reports and pix taken by the Donner group. A curvy dotted line showed a proposed path through blank, unknown jungle, then climbing nearby hills, before finally ending at a spring-fed pool found by yesterday’s party.
“I have to go now,” Jane said. “They want my help with the food and biology projects. Just promise me that this time you’ll get more perspective panoramas as you go—especially from any high points along the way—so we can fill in details a lot better. Maps are gonna be really important, you know.”
Again, Gracie winced at an implied failure on her part.
Carumba! Mark thought. I need to remind her that first times are always rough. We can’t afford for her to lose confidence.
As Jane rolled out of the room, Helene promised to check each item on their list of requested supplies. And that was it, for now at least. Little more needed to be said. They agreed to meet at lunch and again at dinner, before presenting a final plan to Jeffers and Tepper and the Council, after sunset.
“Only now, no more talk,” Alex concluded. “We get off our butts and back to hard work.”
✽✽✽
Hard work, no kidding. But at least it will help us tomorrow, if the Council approves our plan.
Hacking with a machete. Tugging at loosened brush with gloved hands … or else using flung ropes to drag off plants that Dave McCarty called “Don’t-touchems”—after some kids found out the hard way, yesterday—and that was how, gradually, they expanded a cleared zone that bulged outward from the Rock, in the general direction of Donner Lake.
“Calling it that was a nice touch,” Alex said at one point, grunting as she helped Mark toss shrubs onto a pile for drying and later burning. “You know Gracie’s kind of sensitive about her last name.”
“Donner?” Mark waved away drifting clots of dust, as some kid gunned an electric lawn tractor nearby, spinning its wheels while flattening something that might generously be called a short stretch of road. “I don’t get it. What’s wrong with Donner?”
“For an explorer?” Alex gave Mark that you’ve got to be kidding, look, like a thousand other times he was being dense. “Just add the word ‘party’ afterwards.”
He shook his head. “Donner … Donner par …” Mark blinked and then almost slapped his forehead, except for the plant gunk on his gloves. Some of it likely toxic. “Um … duh. Donner Party. Seriously, it never occurred to me. Woof! No wonder Gracie acts like she has something to prove.”
“No wonder they used her mom’s last name for that TV show of theirs.”
“What? You think Cortez was better for a show about exploring nature and cultures?” he asked as they hauled again, this time on a slender stalk of the bamboo-like plant. Those went in a separate pile, for experiments. “Do you think the name thing explains why she turned down a slot on our expedition?”
Alex seemed about to answer—only she was interrupted by a boom, coming from the Rock. Another stick from their small supply of California-illegal dynamite, as crews worked to finish the Big Ramp today, so vehicles could descend safely tomorrow. We’re getting a lot of things done, he thought, though fearing they might have chosen some of the wrong things.
I hope Mr. Davis is supervising more carefully, this time, so no one gets hurt.
I’m sure he is. I hope.
✽✽✽
A couple of hours later, as Mark’s work crew trekked back for their meager lunch, Froggi and Dave slapped at the others’ clothes, partly to dislodge dirt and dust, but also as an excuse to … well … hit their friends.
Yeah, they’re crazy. Maybe I am too, he thought as he laughed and joined in. Alex just rolled her eyes, making it clear that any hands reaching to swat her would get bitten off.
“Hey, Mark!”
He turned, and it was Gracie Donner hurrying to catch up with them on Rimpau, halfway between the ramp and the school gym.
“Hey, Chief Explorer lady. What’s up?” Mark had decided to wear away her bad mood with approval and cheerfulness. Only now it didn’t seem to be necessary. She seemed back to her old I’m-a-force-of-nature self.
“I know it’s lunchtime but can you join me for a few minutes? I want to show you something. The rest of the Emergency Committee is aware—but Principal Jeffers wants you to see it, too.”
Alex nudged Mark, who cleared his throat.
“Sure, Gracie. Um, can Alex come, too?”
Gracie didn’t hesitate. “Absolutely! C’mon, then.”
“We’ll catch up with the rest of you in a bit,” Mark told Froggi, Cardo and the Hammar brothers. Of course, they didn’t care—accelerating toward the few hundred calories lunch would provide.
“Don’t take too long,” Froggi called back. “Or I’ll eat your bowl of whatever mushy slop they’ve got on today’s menu.”
“Yeah,” Cardo added. “At least we’re done with hot dogs from the 7-11. They lasted a long time, but I’m so fulla preservatives now, I feel mummified!”
Mark and Alex followed Gracie into the high school’s science wing and the main biology lab … a bustle of activity overseen by Ms. Takka as students examined local plants and animals, hoping to find some that humans could eat. The process started with simple chemical tests, looking for obvious poisons. Those samples passing that stage went under the pair of expensive analyzers the local school board had provided for AP Biology—funded by the Cirroco Corporation for TNP High—just last year.
At least they seem to have got past the child-proof programming, Mark observed.
The best candidate foods were then fed gingerly to their dwindling supply of healthy hamsters and mice, collected from the animal hospital across the street and one of the nearby houses. Dwindling because … well, because the Garubis are jerks who should have let humanity choose a couple thousand carefully selected and fully equipped science-adventurer adults as colonists, instead of us.
“Fully half of our samples we got from the Donner Expedition,” Ms. Takka said, acknowledging Gracie with a warm nod. And it felt good to have the teacher’s old, cheerful self back again, after two days of gloom. Well, there’s no better cure for depression than being badly needed, Dad used to say.
“Still, it’s slow going. And we mustn’t dismiss candidates too readily. We need to remember that many foods on Earth only became edible after soaking, like acorns and sago. Others needed cooking. So, there’s a lot of variables to try.”
“It took our ancestors plenty of trial and error, and many of them died,” Jane Shevtsov commented, scooting up in her wheelchair, then she added: “Of course none of this will do us any good without water.”
Mark winced. “Yeah. Working on that.”
“So. What part of this do you need us for?” He asked Gracie, pointedly including Alex. Only, to his surprise she answered, simply—
“None of it.” Then Gracie nodded toward a door leading to a smaller classroom. “We’re going in there.”
“Hold on,” added Ms. Takka. “I’m coming too.”
✽✽✽
While Mark passed ahead with Ms. Takka, Alex hung back a bit, sensing a palpable difference between the two labs. While the busy student-technicians in the larger chamber were predominantly female—not just Biology Club members but several seniors Alex had glimpsed, in passing, at Sapho Society rallies—they all worked amicably, side by side with ten or so boys.
Not so in the second room where half a dozen students—all of them girls—worked at lab tables, supervised by a woman with gray-streaked hair tied in a severe bun, perched on a lab stool way in back, her face partly wrapped in gauze, one side of it swollen.
“Hey,” Alex tugged Mark’s sleeve and whispered when she caught up. “Isn’t that Doc Hutnicki, the veterinarian? Jeffers said she had an accident during the Garubis Grab and …”
A sudden, terrible screeching cut her off, an inhuman noise that sent chills down Alex’s spine. She’d heard it before and couldn’t help digging her nails into his arm.
Batoids!
A cage on a nearby table shook. One of the girls grabbed with gloved hands and held it steady, keeping her face well away from the metal bars as something struggled furiously within. After a few moments the cage settled down and the shrieking subsided, but only partly.
“Bat things,” Gracie explained, unnecessarily. “Welcome to the interrogation room.”
“The … oh, I see,” Alex nodded. So did Mark. Well, all humans living on the Rock shared a common enemy. One who had attacked first.
“We took prisoners and we’re studying them.” Gracie led Alex and Mark around the lab, where a variety of batoids lay in various states of life, death, and dismemberment. “After the attack there were a number of wounded and incapacitated critters lying around. We gathered the most intact specimens. Our fire extinguishers really affected them, so they’ve been pretty lethargic—except for one or two.” She indicated the cage with the frenetic one inside.
“This is amazing!” Alex leaned close to peer into one cage. A threatening humming emanated from within.
“Careful,” Gracie pulled her back. “Their teeth and claws can’t get you, but those tongues will whip through the bars faster than you can blink.”
She led them to another lab table, where a dead batoid lay pinned to a dissection tray, its limbs and wings stretched out, its torso sliced open exposing a weird, cartilaginous-like skeleton—not quite bones, but not entirely unlike them. A sophomore girl guided a bio lab camera, feeding data into a mapping program, while another peeled back strange-looking organs.
Alex grimaced. “I remember how bad they smelled when they were alive,” she said, her voice muffled. “They’re even worse dead.”
“Most things are,” Mark gagged next to her.
Gracie nodded. “Yeah, they stink. But check out its tongue.”
The batoid’s tongue had been pulled out of its jaws and pinned to the tray. It must have been nearly a foot long, covered with tiny, flexible spines. “That’s like how they deliver their paralyzing toxins to local critters,” the dissection tech explained. “And it’s also like how they … drink blood.”
“Eww,” Alex said, prodding the tongue with a pencil. “Gross—and fascinating.”
“Whoa,” Mark said, stroking where one of these beasts had fastened itself to his arm with tiny claws before lashing it with its tongue. “But the one that got me was much smaller than this. Are they different sizes?”
“Yeah,” Gracie said. “There are really small ones, with torsos about the size of our thumbs. They seem to be in the majority, and we call them darters. Bigger ones, like this one, and the live ones in the cages, are lifters. There seems to be one lifter for every twenty or thirty darters. At first, we thought the lifters were just the adults—or maybe a different species, but based on differences in wingspan-to-body weight ratios, we now think they’re like different kinds of workers in the same colony. Darters attack and deliver the toxin, then lifters carry some of the prey home.”
“Those little spines are like straws, and flow in two directions.” This was a new voice. Alex turned to see Doc Hutnicki, whose bruised face lent her a foreboding look. She stepped between Mark and Alex.
“Think of them as two-way fangs. Capable of delivering toxin as well as slurping back up their victim’s vital fluids—blood, in our case. Watch.”
Hutnicki produced a small scalpel and proceeded to slice along the dead batoid’s tongue. The flesh parted, revealing a hollow, tube-like interior. “It’s an efficient feeding system. Fascinating.”
Alex noticed how Hutnicki was ignoring Mark. Well, it must have been traumatic when her clinic caught fire and she had to fight the flames alone, rescuing a lot of her animal patients … everyone else being preoccupied during the grab.
Then Alex remembered something else.
Arlene. Arlene Hsu had an afternoon job helping at the animal clinic. There was gossip. Now, Arlene’s dead and the bats did it.
Okay, I can see how this is personal.
“…so these fatty-like tissues in the abdomen lead me to believe they store the nutrients for at least a few days…”
Doc Hutnicki stopped and looked up as Colin Gornet strode in, flanked by two of his security squad: Bret Kline and Fred Huff, both linebackers on the football team.
“What’re they doing here?” one of the girls muttered.
“It’s okay,” Dr. Hutnicki soothed. “I asked Principal Jeffers to send them. “There’s a task that … doesn’t call for subtlety.”
“Hm. Boys like this have to be useful for something. Right?” added Paulina Isfahani. Alex knew her from Mr. Castro’s junior U.S. history class. She saw Ms. Takka wince and Alex had a hunch. Radical versus moderate versions of the same philosophy. And we can tell which side owns this room.
“I am needed in the other lab,” Ms. Takka said, stepping toward the door.
“Yes, the food question.” Dr. Hutnicki nodded. “Almost as important as defeating this enemy. I am glad that my diagnosis machines from the animal hospital proved key to unlocking yours, here in the school.”
That pointed comment struck Alex as a bit unfair and braggy, and she saw Ms. Takka start to respond, till Doc Hutnicki waved her off.
“Go on, Noriko. We have this.”
As Takka left, Gornet and his pals moved closer.
“Principal Jeffers said you wanted go over the bat plan. Oh, and we brought the nerd.” Colin jerked his thumb behind him.
Dwarfed by Colin and the others, Barry Tang’s messy dark hair and eager eyes were barely visible over the large cardboard box he carried, overflowing with wires and antennas and a motorcycle battery.
“Hey Alex. Hey Mark. Give me a hand here? These guys were no help.”
“Wow!” Alex started digging into the box once it was on the last open table, picking up a partially disassembled walkie-talkie. “What is all this stuff?”
“Mostly from the physics lab.” Barry launched into that fast-talking thing he did when he explained a new science project. “But these batteries I got from Mr. Marshall at Chevy King. It’s so cool! My BTDs—”
“BTDs?”
“Bat thing detectors. We know the batoids are out there somewhere, so instead of waiting for them we’re gonna—”
Doc Hutnicki cleared her throat loudly, cutting Barry off. The entire lab went silent. She really did have a commanding presence in here.
“As you know, I’ve made the study of animals my profession. Only now this new world presents an incredible opportunity.”
There was a gleam in her eye. Alex had seen it in others already. As if the Garubis’s so-called gift was just that, an escape from Earth to someplace better, not a punishment or penalty, at all.
“Back on Earth, millions had begun viewing our planet as a unified thing, a living, self-regulating organism. Feminine in its completeness, though ravaged by patriarchal–” One of the senior girls touched Hutnicki’s elbow and she blinked, then nodded.
“Still, nature tests us. She rewards those who stand up for their own right to exist! And in this case, before we can reach commensal peace with this new world, we must survive Her trials.” Hutnicki spoke with vehemence, glancing down at one of the captive batoids. “And so …” She paused.
“And so …” Colin Gornet urged her to get on with it.
“And so, first things first. We will find the batoids’ home and destroy them.”
There was another long pause, broken at last when Gornet said, “Now you’re talking.”
“That’s where I come in!” Barry dug into his box excitedly. “See, the Doc here had all these commercial trackers in her veterinary place, to help locate pets if they got lost.” He dumped a handful of little plastic discs on a nearby lab table, each the size of a dog tag, but a bit thicker. Some had wires sticking out, which were in turn affixed to tiny, coin-sized batteries with tape.
“Problem is, they’re short range. But I added batteries to boost their signal.”
Alex surmised. “So, we attach these to some batoids and … let them go?”
“Spot on. We’ll track them right to their lair!”
“Lair?” Alex laughed.
“Cave. Nest. Wherever they live.”
Gracie Donner stepped forward.
“Barry skipped ahead a bit,” she said. “Doc Hutnicki’s plan, which the Emergency Council approved this morning, is to attach trackers to the larger lifter batoids, track them to their … lair, like Barry said … then Colin’s team goes in and kills as many of them as they can. Maybe drive away the rest or teach them to leave us alone.”
“Clever,” Alex said. “Though if we corner them in their own habitat, who knows how violent they might really get.”
“It is necessary, to keep this fragile offshoot of Earth safe until we understand this new world better,” Dr. Hutnicki said. “That’s why we’re sending you big, strong boys, with your axes and torches and flame throwers. You’ll like that, won’t you?”
“Yes ma’am,” agreed one of the linebackers, with evident relish, though Alex saw Gornet frown, as if he suspected they were being mocked.
“Flamethrowers?” Mark asked
“Coach Hensen got access to the gasoline reserves,” Colin said. “He mixed it with some used styrofoam plates from the lunchroom and made napalm. Coach showed us how to put it in jars and throw it.” Colin swung his arm as if tossing a football, paused for a moment, then raised both arms to signal an imaginary touchdown. His two companions imitated the sound of a cheering crowd.
“Anyway,” Gornet continued. “We’ll use ’em to spread napalm all over the batoids when we find them. We also got flares from vehicle safety kits at the Chevy dealership. The combo should light up like the Fourth of July.”
Alex could think of several possible ways for this to go wrong and she saw Mark obviously pondering the same thing.
But who am I? Am I any great font of wisdom? The bat attack had everyone afraid, and it made some sense to eliminate the threat.
“The batoids might live far from here,” Alex said. “Gracie and her team barely explored more than a few klicks away, during which Jorge got jumped by some unknown jungle creature. The batoids might be cuddly kittens by comparison.”
“Aren’t you planning an expedition of your own, you two?” Hutnicki asked.
Alex left it to Mark to answer.
“We’ll be in SUVs and armed.”
“And we know pretty much where we’re going, thanks to you.” Alex hurriedly added, nodding pointedly at Gracie Donner. She saw Mark blink a couple of times, as if unsure whether the two young women were arguing or, agreeing without admitting it.
Hutnicki waved away all concern. “Based on their physiology, I’m quite sure these are short-range predators, so no vehicles should be needed. No, I think we’ll find the batoids live nearby—too close for comfort, most likely. All the more reason to send you boys after them now.”
“And me, too,” Gracie added.
“Naturally, if we ever hope to see these boys again.” Though the veterinarian seemed to be fine with either outcome, so long as it killed bats.
“What do you think, Mark? Alex?” Gracie asked.
You invited us here to give our blessing? Alex wondered. At least this explained why Gracie, their most experienced explorer turned down the Water Expedition, with plenty already on her plate. Anyway, it sounded like the decision had already been made. Alex and Mark were just being kept in the loop.
“When will we know where to find them?” Mark asked.
“Hopefully tomorrow night,” Barry said. "After Jane and I combine my triangulation kit with her mapping stuff. Ain’t that right, Dr. Shevtsov?”
Jane grinned back at him. “Right as rack and ruin, Dr. Tang.”
“Then, I hope tomorrow night, we’ll be ready!” Barry pulled the wheeled table holding his box of equipment toward the lab bench with batoid cages. “They’re nocturnal, so once we’ve got trackers on these live ones here, we’ll set them free at sunset tomorrow and get a fix on their location when they stop. Then the next day … whoosh!”
“Whoosh indeed,” Doc Hutnicki nodded. And with that, she turned back to her girls. “Alright ladies, let’s find out how to prep these nasty fellows for their doom.”
For a second, Alex felt unsure whether she meant the batoids or the eager, would-be flame-hurlers. Possibly both.
“Good luck,” Mark said to Barry, then headed for the exit. Alex heard his stomach growl, volubly, and clearly he was losing focus. Alex felt like she could eat, too.
“Good luck yourselves!” Barry called after them. “Hope the water thing works out! Take one of my mini drones if you want to. Oh, and tell Hammar I may need help before sundown!”
“Which Hammar?” Alex paused to ask at the door.
“Both of them!”