‘I could get used to this,’ said Bernie, a huge grin plastered across his face.

‘Don’t get too comfy,’ said Ivy. ‘I’m still not sure I know how to stop.’

Bernie and Ivy zoomed through the darkening jungle on a cushion of air aboard the hovercraft. It was a compact two-person vehicle, with the driver seated at the front and the passenger immediately behind. The fan at the back made a whirring sound, reminding Bernie of the drones, albeit lower in pitch. It was way quieter than he had expected. The hovercraft flew smoothly over the rough ground, even passing over some of the smaller plants.

‘If we had this before,’ said Bernie, ‘we could have outrun the drone.’

‘Yeah, well, I’m not supposed to use any of the vehicles unsupervised, except the buggies,’ said Ivy.

‘You were joking about not knowing how to stop?’ asked Bernie. ‘Weren’t you?’

Ivy laughed and then slowed the vehicle. ‘We’re coming up to the lake soon. I’m taking us around the back, where the trees come right up to the bank.’

‘So we can sneak up on them,’ said Bernie.

‘That’s the idea.’

The journey became more difficult now, as Ivy steered the hovercraft through a tighter conglomeration of vegetation. Eventually they could go no further. She cut the engine and the vehicle came to rest on the ground.

‘We’ll have to walk the rest of the way,’ she explained.

Pushing through the undergrowth, they eventually reached the edge of the jungle and peered out through the leaves. The sun was just sinking below the tops of the trees on the far side, bathing the entire area in an orange glow.

Contrasting the beauty of the scene were three harsh shapes. Black. Metallic. Out of place against the lush greenery. In the clearing on the other side of the lake sat three helicopters.

‘Wow!’ breathed Bernie.

‘You can say that again,’ whispered Ivy.

‘Wow!’ repeated Bernie. ‘It really is poachers. I was kind of hoping I’d be wrong about all this.’

‘Yeah,’ agreed Ivy. ‘Me too.’

‘I don’t see Bolete’s jeep,’ observed Bernie. ‘He didn’t come here after all.’

‘Maybe he was going to the fungal core,’ said Ivy.

‘But if he’s in league with the poachers, why wouldn’t he come here?’

Ivy shrugged.

Putting Bolete aside for the moment, the two of them assessed the scene. One of the helicopters was fairly ordinary sized, although it was black and appeared to be armoured. It sat roughly in the middle of the clearing. The other two were large military-style transports with two rotors each. They were positioned on either side of the other helicopter, much closer to the tree line. There were half a dozen people in camouflage gear in various stages of poaching. Two of them were hauling a dinosaur (at this distance Bernie couldn’t tell what sort) in a net up into one of the helicopters. Another two were in the process of tying up an unconscious creature. And another two were heading off into the jungle, rifles in hand. Above the scene, two drones whizzed about, keeping an eye on things.

‘This is a big operation,’ said Ivy. ‘We’ve got to tell Dad.’

‘By the time we return with backup,’ said Bernie, ‘these guys will be long gone.’

‘So what do we do?’

‘Isn’t it obvious?’ said Bernie, matter-of-factly. ‘We’ve got to stop them ourselves.’