13

BAA, BAA

THE MORNING SUN BEAT BRIGHTLY OFF THE SPARKLING WAVES OF THE cove and the silver material of our Omega City utility suits. We stood on the quay, holding our suits under our arms—except Howard, of course. Far across the water, the island sat, wooded and silent . . . and waiting.

“You’re sure about this?” Savannah asked.

I nodded. “The way I see it, there’s only one island, so if the message said something about an island, then this is the island it meant.”

“But we already know the boats won’t take us there,” Eric argued.

“The car didn’t take us all the way to the docks,” I pointed out. “And yet here we are.”

I hadn’t wanted the self-driving car’s record to show that it had dropped us off here, so I directed it to the minigolf smart courts, and then we’d walked over. Now that I knew how easy it was for Guidant to monitor the self-driving cars, I didn’t want any Shepherds who might be watching to realize we were headed to the island. Even Elana Mero and her super surveillance didn’t have a lock on everything that went down at Eureka Cove. Now, at least, we could make it work in our favor.

“You want us to swim all the way to the island?” Savannah asked, skeptical.

“No.” I pointed at the inflatable kayaks stacked at the end of the dock. “Not everything in Eureka Cove is high-tech.”

“Kayaks?” Eric whined. “Can’t we at least use a sailboat?”

“We’re trying to keep a low profile,” I said.

“Literally,” said Howard, zipping the code book into one of his utility suit’s waterproof cargo pockets.

“Look,” I said as I zipped my cell phone into one of my pockets, “either Dad’s right and those messages are just a school project, in which case, yay, we meet a bunch of kids from Eureka Cove and have, like, a code-breaking club picnic or something.”

“Really?” Howard perked up. “Is that a real thing?”

“Or they’re from the Shepherds and we’re in danger.” Dad was in danger.

Eric made a face at the kayaks, then turned to me. “Did you try Dad again?”

“Fifteen times,” I told Eric. “Do you want me to try sixteen?”

His shoulders slumped. “Better save your energy, if you’re planning to row all the way out to that island.”

Once we were on the water, I realized how right Eric was. The island was much farther away than it had looked from the end of the dock. The land receded behind us, but the island never got closer. My arms started to burn, then went numb.

“Um, Gillian? Are you rowing?” Savannah asked from the front of our kayak.

“Yes?” I looked down at my jelly hands and willed them to move.

Eric and Howard sailed past. “Should have worked out more with Mom and me this summer, Gills. Stroke! Stroke!”

I scowled and started rowing again. After what seemed like ages, the solid green mass of trees and overgrowth on the island resolved itself into a thin strip of beach with a deep piney woods behind. Through the thick foliage, I could just make out the shapes of blocky buildings and metal structures. Here and there, sunlight bounced off hidden glass, and over it all stood a tall, rocky outcrop topped with the unmistakable metal spire of a radio tower.

We pulled the kayaks up to the edge of the beach. The narrow band of sand was strewn with driftwood and debris, and very unlike the pristine, wide expanse of beach across the cove.

Savannah wiped her face with her sleeve. “That was no fun. I’m melting out here.”

“You should put on your suit,” said Howard. “Cooling level three.”

“We should all put on our suits,” I said.

“Why?” Eric asked. “It’s not like it’s camouflage.”

“Neither is your red T-shirt, ace,” Savannah said.

“I think the suits are invisible on infrared camera,” I explained, shoving my legs into my suit. “Maybe because of the temperature controls, or maybe because of the silver material, I don’t know. But Howard was invisible to the infrared cameras on the smart courts. And if someone is watching us, it’s probably through infrared camera.”

“Why do you think that?” asked Savannah.

Eric sighed. “It’s because of the bushes. And I hate that I know this.”

“What do you mean, the bushes?” asked Savannah.

“What do you mean, you hate that you know this?” I echoed.

Eric rolled his eyes. “The bushes and trees mean they wouldn’t be able to see us with regular cameras. Also, they can monitor the premises even at night.” He looked at me. “I told you, I don’t always tune out when Dad talks.”

Savannah unrolled her suit. “I hate this thing.”

Howard helped her adjust the zippers. “You won’t say that after you get the cooling system on.”

Once we were dressed, with our cooling levels turned to three, we set off into the woods. Though it looked pretty thick from the beach, with a dark canopy of trees over a tangled, vine-choked undergrowth, about twenty yards in, the foliage thinned out and I could see a sunny clearing beyond the trunks and leaves. We fought our way through the underbrush and eventually broke through. Before us was a small, brownish field enclosed by a series of wire fences that divided the space into square paddocks. Beyond the grass was a cluster of boxy, almost windowless concrete buildings nearly eaten by vines, and a large, crescent-shaped crystalline structure that arched as high as the roofs. Everything was old and grungy compared to the glistening, modern technological wonderland of the rest of Eureka Cove.

“Wow,” said Eric. “Guidant just abandoned all this?”

“Well, they wanted it more green,” Savannah said. “Do weeds count?”

“That’s not what Elana meant. She meant they weren’t able to fix these buildings to be in keeping with their environmental initiatives,” said Howard.

I didn’t see any solar panels or smart cars. Then again, I didn’t see any roads, either. So far, it appeared to be exactly what Elana had described—a whole lot of nothing.

We approached the fence, and as we did, what looked like a pile of dead grass shifted and started coming our way. We all froze. As it got closer, I saw tiny black snouts and bright eyes emerging from the light brown mass.

“It’s . . . sheep,” said Eric. “They’re . . . sheep?”

Tiny sheep. The creatures were probably no taller than my knee, with thick, shaggy coats that swept the ground as they headed toward the wires that separated us from them.

“Aww, how cute,” Savannah said.

“They’re so small!” cried Eric, bending over the fence wires. “Who’s a widdle sheep?”

“Baa,” said the sheep all at once.

Eric snapped back up. “That was . . . creepy.”

“Look at this.” Savannah pointed at a sign affixed to the fence.

FLOCK 4

SIZE RATING: IDEAL

WOOL PRODUCTION: IDEAL

MEAT PRODUCTION: UNSATISFACTORY

METHANE PRODUCTION: SATISFACTORY

REPRODUCTION RATING: SATISFACTORY

RESOURCE RATING: SATISFACTORY

COMPLETION DATE:

“What’s methane?” I asked.

“Sheep farts,” said Howard.

Eww.

“There’s another sign over here.” Savannah jogged over to the next paddock, which was empty. The sheep turned their heads as one to follow her movement, like they shared a brain or something. Was that a normal sheep thing?

“It says ‘Flock Three.’ The ratings aren’t as good. ‘Completion date’ was back in May.”

Eric ran to the paddock on the other side. “‘Flock Two.’ Almost all unsatisfactories, except for meat production and size rating. Completion back in March.”

“Completion!” Savannah echoed sarcastically. “They mean the day they killed them. Poor sheep.” She patted one on his woolly head.

“Baa,” they all said.

“Do you think they’re clones?” I asked. That’s what people did, was clone sheep, right? “They all look exactly alike.”

“I think that’s because they’re sheep,” said Eric. “Sheep always look exactly alike.”

“Do they always move like this?” I asked. “Bleat at the same time, turn at the same time?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “Do I look like a shepherd?”

We both stared at each other as we realized what he’d just said. Shepherds ready to move on target. Phase two to be launched on island.

Shepherds.

“Oh, no, Gills,” he said. “Don’t tell me we’re out here because of some actual, literal sheep.”

“No.” No. I refused to believe that.

“This isn’t the school’s cryptography club,” Eric went on. “It’s their 4-H.”

“No!” We didn’t just get some message about shepherds. We also got one with our name in it. “Elana said this island wasn’t in use. So at the very least she was lying.”

“Wow, call the cops,” Eric drawled. “The head of an enormous company lied to a twelve-year-old about something that was none of her business anyway.”

“Or maybe she doesn’t know about every single project happening on the campus,” said Savannah. “She has a huge international company to run. How is she supposed to stay on top of a few dozen sheep, especially if it is a school project like the numbers station? Maybe she doesn’t know about the sheep. Poor things.”

“Baa,” said the sheep.

“Or maybe she doesn’t know about it because it’s a Shepherd project,” said Howard. He pointed to the sign.

There, in tiny print at the bottom right corner, was the image of a pair of J-shaped shepherd’s crooks crossed over a globe. I recognized it instantly, from the bags our utility suits came in, the electrified fences placed around the smoking ruins of Omega City, the faded tattoo scar on the inside of Fiona’s arm. It was the symbol of the Arkadia Group.

It was the mark of the Shepherds.

I took two steps back, as if the crooks drawn on the sign were about to reach out and grab me. I no longer needed the cooling setting on my utility suit, as the blood seemed to drain away from my body.

I’d expected to feel vindicated—after all, we’d come to the island looking for proof that the Shepherds were here—but instead, my stomach twisted in knots. A few Shepherds hiding out and sending coded messages were one thing. Paddocks bearing the Arkadia Group brand . . . that was something else.

Just then, a loud buzzing filled the air and two flying drones buzzed over the tops of the trees. The sheep all turned their faces to the sky.

“Hoods up!” I hissed, and pulled the silver hood up over the top of my utility suit. This would be the real test. If the drones were only equipped with infrared cameras, there was a chance they wouldn’t spot us.

The drones flew about fifteen feet in the air, buzzing along until they reached the middle of the paddock housing Flock 4 of the pygmy sheep. A hatch in the bottom of the drones’ bodies opened, dropping green pellets all over the dusty field, and then they zipped off toward the center of the island. I breathed a sigh of relief.

“Think they saw us?” Savannah asked.

“Let’s not wait to find out.”

As a unit, the sheep all turned and trotted over to the pellets, bleating in chorus. As a unit, they all lowered their heads to the earth and began snuffling up the food.

As a unit, Howard, Savannah, Eric, and I all turned to one another. I couldn’t see the others’ faces behind the visors of the suits, but I’m sure they were as astounded as I was.

“Okay, they are really freaking me out,” Eric said.

“Come on,” I said. “Let’s find out where those drones went.” If we followed them to the source, we could discover who was really behind this operation, and see if they had Dad.

We slid beneath the wires of the paddock and waded through the mass of bleating sheep. I had to admit, they were quite adorable, with their tiny little faces and fluffy, matted coats. I didn’t know sheep came this small. They definitely weren’t lambs, either, but full-grown sheep with thick, fluffy coats and long snouts. I couldn’t imagine how cute their lambs would be. They’d probably look like little teacup poodles.

I wondered when their “completion date” was. Savannah was right. Poor things.

“Baa,” said one, as a whole mess of poop fell out of its backside near my foot.

Then again . . .

On the other side of the paddocks, the vine-choked concrete walls of the nearest building rose before us. I didn’t even see a door through the foliage, and there was no sign of the drones, or anything else.

I sighed. I don’t know what I’d been expecting. A nice big window into a room where the Shepherds sat like cartoon villains, twirling their mustaches while my dad was tied to a chair?

Yeah, right.

“I’m going to try Dad again.” I pulled out my phone, but there was no reception. I showed Eric the screen. “Didn’t Elana say that radio tower was a cell phone relay? If that were true, we’d have a signal now.”

Another lie. And now the truth seemed horribly clear. What if Elana had lied to us about everything on the island because it was all one big Shepherd project?

What if Elana Mero was a Shepherd?