“Exactly,” Chief Ranger Shelton replied. He turned to Jessica. “Does that clarify why we’re not calling in a larger group?”
She nodded, very somber. “I promise I won’t say anything, not even to my parents. I’ve told my mom that I’m going to tag along with Stephanie and Karl on their SFS probationary ranger rounds. That’s true enough, right?”
“Right.” Chief Ranger Shelton indicated a segment of a holomap that dominated one portion of the table. “This is where we’re sending you in. Cover as much ground as you can as carefully as you can from the air, landing only if you think there’s a good reason. Dr. Whittaker’s vehicle was a boxy air van, capable of carrying a lot of people and gear. At least we’re not looking for shreds of a lighter-than-air craft. Report if you find anything worth landing to inspect. Good luck.”
“We’ll do our best,” Stephanie promised, then they hurried out.
They were taking Karl’s car, so he slid into the pilot’s seat. Stephanie took the front passenger seat, while Jessica got in the back, behind Karl.
“So I can cover that side while you pilot. I wish they could have given us some sort of fancy scanner array.”
Stephanie replied, “They’ve already done what they can with satellite downlook and such. No hot-spots or the like to indicate a crash. In a way, we’re lucky it’s fire season, so the SFS already has extra satellite time allocated.”
Lionheart perched in Stephanie’s lap, placing his “hands” on the side of the door and looking down. For once, he didn’t “bleek” to have the window opened.
I guess, Stephanie thought, he’s figured out this isn’t a time for the wind in his fur. I wonder if he’s just looking out because that’s what he always does or because he knows we’re looking for Anders and his dad and the others. Whatever, I’m glad to have him here.
She was no less glad when the search was called at twilight and despair as black as the gathering night filled her. Climbs Quickly stood on his hind legs and stroked her cheek with his true-hand, then leapt into the backseat to wrap his tail around Jessica and nuzzle her downturned face. Since Karl was piloting, the treecat settled for patting him lightly on one shoulder before getting back into Stephanie’s lap.
Jessica’s voice came disembodied from the back of the air car. “You don’t think they’re all dead, do you? I can’t believe there could have been an accident that huge without some sign.”
Unless they crashed in the river, Stephanie thought. Unless they were somehow sabotaged. Chief Ranger Shelton mentioned that not everyone was happy Dr. Whittaker was here, but would they go to such lengths?
Once she wouldn’t have had such thoughts, but that was before Dr. Ubel had sabotaged Arvin Erhardt’s air car just to get rid of an inconvenient witness. Or before she herself had held a gun on Tennessee Bolgeo, knowing she would shoot him if he didn’t stop what he was doing. Before she had seen what Bolgeo was willing to do to creatures he, at least, didn’t seem to doubt were sentient.
Karl spoke reassuringly. “Tomorrow they plan to expand the range of the search. We already have our assignment-that ravine we saw today, but couldn’t go down into without spending more time than we should.”
But by the next morning, everything had changed.
Chapter Ten
As the second day of their exile drew to a close, Anders was aware of a growing sense of expectation among the crew. He thought it was unduly optimistic-they wouldn’t even be missed until that night-but he knew that both Virgil and Kesia hoped their spouses would alert the authorities.
Anders realized, too, that his own activities had certainly added to this sense that rescue was certain to come quickly. After helping Dr. Emberly with checking the fish traps and more foraging, he’d asked to be excused.
“It’s not that I’m not interested, Dr. Emberly,” he said, looking at the four rather strange-looking “fish” they’d taken from the traps. It was a good thing the SFS guidebook assured them this species was edible, because based on appearance alone, Anders would have had serious doubts. “But I have some ideas how we might make it easier for us to be found.”
“Why don’t you just call me Calida,” she suggested. “It seems ridiculous to use titles while we’re all stranded here.”
“Because my dad wouldn’t like it,” Anders replied promptly. “But if you don’t mind, I’ll call you Doctor Calida.”
“Done,” she said. “Now, what is it you have in mind?”
After listening to Anders outline his plans, Dr. Calida had agreed. “But be careful up in the trees.”
Figuring that talking to Dr. Calida counted as asking permission, Anders avoided talking to his father. Dr. Whittaker-Dad had glowered when any of his underlings had addressed him by anything except this title-was behaving really strangely. Not only was he insisting on maintaining the academic hierarchy, but he was carrying on with his fieldwork as if nothing else was important.
When Anders had questioned him about this, privately, so as not to cause any embarrassment, Dad had smiled fondly and all but patted him on the head.
“You go ahead and play at camping adventure if you’d like,” he said, his tone so warm and affectionate that Anders wondered if he somehow imagined they were on holiday at their mountain cabin. “I’m here to work and so are the others. We’re learning a great deal. Dr. Emberly has already recorded some fascinating evidence that the treecats may be in transition from a purely hunter-gatherer lifestyle to one with elements of agriculture. She wouldn’t have had the opportunity to learn this without our current situation. Even if we’d waited only a few weeks for permission to come here, much of the evidence-such as those patches of near-lettuce-would have grown beyond the point where we could record the treecats’ use of them.”
Anders could tell he wasn’t going to get through, so he went on with his plans, embarrassingly aware that there was a certain adventure story quality to them. Experimentation had shown that for someone of his weight, walking on the surface of the bog was relatively safe-as long as he didn’t stick his foot on one of those areas where only a thin screen of vegetation covered the sucking mud beneath. Dr. Calida had explained that in more normal situations traversing the bog would not have been as safe.
“I’m guessing,” she said, “that in addition to the wetlands providing the treecats with drinking water, an interesting variety of useful plants, and fresh fish, the bog also provided a natural moat. A creature as heavy as a hexapuma would think twice or even three times before crossing that area. The risk of getting trapped would be too great.”
After consulting his SFS guide book to make certain he would not be exposing himself to any toxic saps, Anders cut a quantity of undergrowth from the edges of the bog in which the air-van had sunk. This he dragged out onto the bog itself and arranged it on a slight rise in a large X pattern. He was very careful where he stepped, but even so, his shoes-the only pair he had brought with him-got thoroughly muddy, and he had reason to be glad that he’d packed extra socks.
He was also reassured to know that Dacey Emberly was keeping watch on him from her perch in the treetops. The elderly painter might be less than active, but she was earning the gratitude of the expedition. Not only was she tending to the unconscious Langston Nez, but she minded the pots simmering on the cookstove-fresh food could not be prepared as quickly as the camping staples Anders had been familiar with before this. She also had assigned herself the role of watch-not only for aerial traffic, of which there was depressingly little, but also for ground-level hazards.
“I don’t know much about Sphinx,” Dacey said, “but I haven’t associated with a xenobiologist all these years without learning that water always draws the wild things. Though that area’s dry for a bog, it’s still plenty wet to provide drinking water.”
When Anders expressed concern that despite his efforts to place it safely, his brushwood X would simply doom another vehicle to land and sink, Dacey had chuckled.
“Don’t you worry about that. I’ve been spotting wood rats-and even a smaller critter or two Calida tells me might not yet be in the official zoological record. I got pictures, even!” She turned serious. “Honestly, I’m not going
