pieces with the clawlike device, then moved to the back and smashed the rear crystal. Bobby had his own tool and was doing the same to another gig. It was a slow process because the crystal was diamond hard. They had been working for nearly half an hour and had sabotaged only ten gigs.
“It’s getting lighter,” Bobby announced as he looked out the hangar door. The sky was getting bright. Daylight painted the treetops. It was going to be a nice, clear day, unfortunately.
“Keep working,” Kasha ordered. “We don’t know when they plan to-“
They both heard the door opening at the same time. Kasha and Bobby ducked down behind a gig and looked to the hangar door. Two klees entered, looking relaxed and casual.
“You piloted the last two missions,” one klee complained. “It’s my turn in the command chair.”
“Who’s the senior forager here?” the second klee asked patiently.
“Well, you, but-“
“And who’s responsible for the success of this mission?”
“Okay, you are, except-“
“This is history!” the second klee said. “When they write about this day, nobody’s going to remember who was in the command chair. They’re only going to remember that two hero klees saved Eelong.”
“Really?” the first klee asked with a big smile.
“Yes, really,” the second answered.
“Yeah, well, I still think it’s my turn,” the first klee complained.
“Live with it,” the senior forager snapped back.
The two klees went to the front row and pushed a yellow gig out of line toward the edge of the launch platform. It was one of the helicopters that Bobby and Kasha hadn’t yet sabotaged.
“I know them,” Kasha whispered. “They’re the two best flyers we have.”
“Figures,” Bobby said, deflated.
Three more klees entered the hangar. The first was the new viceroy of Leeandra, Timber… Saint Dane. He was followed by two klees who struggled to carry a shiny, golden tank. It was the size of the propane tank Bobby’sdad had used to fuel their barbeque at home. The tank must have been heavy, because it took two klees to carry it. They got to the end of a row of gigs, turned the corner, and one klee caught the back of his leg on a side rotor. It threw him off balance, and he fell.
“Look out!” the klee called as he let go of the tank.
“Help!” the second klee said in a panic.
Timber reacted with incredibly quick reflexes. He spun around and caught the tank just before it hit the floor. The other klees stood frozen, holding their breaths.
“Sorry,” the fallen klee said sheepishly.
“Sorry?” Timber repeated. “You nearly killed every klee in Leeandra and all you can say is…’sorry’?”
The klee looked down, ashamed.
“Leave,” Timber commanded. The clumsy klee skulked away. Timber carried the tank the rest of the way himself.
“I think we almost died,” Kasha whispered.
“If that’s the Cloral poison, we almost did,” Bobby agreed.
The two crawled cautiously forward to get a better look at what the klees were doing. They watched as the two pilots took charge of the golden tank and attached it to the pincer claws on the front of their yellow gig. They ran black tubing from the tank and attached it to the body beneath.
“They’re setting it up like they’re going to spray fertilizer over crops,” Kasha whispered.
“Or death over Black Water,” Bobby whispered somberly.
When the job was finished, the two pilots stood at attention in front of their new viceroy.
“You must fly into the wind,” Timber instructed. “Come in close to the rim of the canyon, drop down low, and release the chemical. One pass will be enough. Do not circle back or you will meet the same fate as the savages below. Understood?”
“Yes. Understood,” the pilots answered.
Timber continued, “Once you have passed over Black Water, set your sights on the gars that are traveling toward the mountains.” Timber chuckled and added, “They think they have saved themselves by fleeing from Leeandra, but all they’ve done is separate themselves from the klees so we can cut them down more efficiently.”
The klees chuckled at the irony. Timber held out a map. Seegen’s map. “The mountain range is vast,” he instructed. “Follow this map precisely or you’ll miss your target.”
The copilot took Seegen’s map and said, “Don’t worry, Viceroy. I’ll get us there.” He folded the map and put it inside his tunic.
“After your mission, you will forever be heroes in the minds of klees everywhere,” Timber said. “I thank you, and your fellow klees thank you.”
“The light is high enough,” the commander said. “We can fly right away.”
“Not yet,” Saint Dane said. “We want to make sure that most of the gars have reached the killing ground.”
Bobby felt his stomach tighten. They were talking about mass murder as casually as if they were discussing sports.
“Be ready,” Saint Dane said as he turned to leave. “I will return to send you off momentarily.” The other klee followed him out, leaving the pilots alone. The two pilots relaxed and smiled.
“We’re going to be heroes!” the copilot shouted with giddy enthusiasm. “Will we get medals?”
“Don’t start writing any speeches yet,” the commander said as he climbed aboard the gig. He sat in the left- hand, pilot’s seat. “Let’s fly the mission first.” He toggled three switches and shouted, “Clear!”
The copilot took a step back from the gig. With a low whine, the three overhead rotors began to turn. In no time they were up to speed and whirring softly. Bobby was surprised at how quiet they were. They sounded more like powerful fans than the helicopters back home.
“Now’s our chance,” Kasha said as she crept forward.
“Whoa, to do what?” Bobby asked.
“To steal the gig, of course,” she said, and tossed her lasso at Bobby. “Take out the copilot,” she ordered, and sprang from their hiding place. Bobby caught the lasso awkwardly and followed her.
“Take out the copilot?” he said to himself quickly. “Yeah, right.”
As Kasha ran, she reached into her belt pouch to retrieve her lethal disks. The klees had no idea what was coming. Kasha silently flung the first disk, hitting the commander square in the shoulder. He screamed and looked around with surprise.
Bobby ran for the copilot, having no idea what he was going to do. He had never thrown a lasso in his life. He clutched the rope near the three balls. The confused copilot was turning to look back at what all the screaming was about. Bobby figured this was his one shot at catching him by surprise. He flung the lasso. The three balls flew toward the copilot, catching him on the legs and tripping him up. It was the best Bobby could have hoped for.
Kasha quickly threw another disk at the commander and caught him in the other shoulder. The stunned klee struggled to power up the gig, but he was too late. Kasha pounced. She yanked him out of the craft and threw him to the ground.
Bobby didn’t know what to do next. He grabbed one end of the lasso and tried to run around the copilot in a desperate attempt to tie up his legs. It was a lame effort. The copilot quickly got his wits back and lashed at Bobby with his claws. Bobby dove away, barely missing being sliced. He was helpless against this deadly cat.
Kasha scrambled into the gig. She was halfway in and already throttling up. The rotors hummed faster, blasting wind across the platform.
“Stop her!” the injured commander shouted.
The copilot forgot about Bobby and leaped for Kasha.
“Kasha, look out!” Bobby yelled.
Too late. Kasha’s attention was on the gig controls. She wasn’t prepared for the attack. The copilot yanked her out of the seat and with a mighty heave, sent her spiraling backward toward the edge of the platform.
Bobby grabbed the lasso and bolted for her. On the run, he tossed the balls.
“Kasha!” he yelled.
