positioned the emitters to optimize sonic output and we expand the area of New Hope a little each year. We’re even working on something for the Floraes. . . . You know, your mother would probably be the one to talk to about all this. I’m not sure what she wants you to know.”
“Did my mother tell you I snuck into the lab?” I asked.
Rice sighed. “Yes, she told me. I don’t know why you did that. You could have been sent to the Ward or expelled.”
“I don’t know why I did it either. I saw the black door open and slipped through without even thinking.” I paused and looked around to make sure no one was in earshot. I lowered my voice. “I saw all the experiments you’re doing. You must have discovered something about the Floraes by now. Where they come from, why they’re here.”
Rice fidgeted, adjusting his glasses. “Amy, I can’t talk about this. I can’t share our research with you. Even though you’re the director’s daughter, you’re still just a citizen. You haven’t even classed out yet.”
“I don’t understand why this is all so secretive.”
“It’s not, just . . . I mean, every citizen of New Hope doesn’t need to know every single thing that is going on. It would be too much for some people to handle.”
I sighed and rubbed my face.
“How is Baby?” Rice asked, changing the subject. “The director said you two were resting this past week. She’s not sick is she?”
“No. She’s fine,” I assured him. “We’re just getting used to sleeping at night instead of during the day.”
“I was worried about you two, hiding in your apartment all week.”
“We weren’t hiding,” I told him, though that’s exactly what we were doing. I lay back in the grass and let the sunshine pour over me. After a few minutes of peace I sat up and gave Rice a weak smile.
“Feel better?” he asked.
“Yes, thanks. This was . . . necessary.”
He stood, wiping the grass from his jeans, then held out a hand and helped me up. He looked down at me, his eyes shining intensely. “I have to get back to work, but I’ll see you after class. Okay?”
I smiled and nodded. I walked back to my classroom with a strange mix of emotions. I liked Rice, trusted him. But when I slipped into my desk, I wondered about our conversation. Floraes outpopulated us thousands to one. We had to stop them. Someone in New Hope had to find the answer. I looked around the classroom, at the gifted and talented kids back from lunch, all working quietly on their proposals.
I made my way over to Vivian’s desk. She looked up cheerfully. “You doing okay?”
“Yeah . . . about lunch . . .”
“Don’t worry about it. People expect post-aps to be a little jumpy,” she told me.
“Well, I was just wondering about what you were doing earlier, when I first got to class . . . when you were all talking to figure something out.”
“The think tank?”
“That’s it. Can I call a think tank?”
“Sure.” She stood and started arranging chairs in a circle. “Come on, guys. Andrew, Hector, Haley . . . Amy needs our help with something.”
Everyone gathered in a circle and stared at me expectantly.
“Well,” I started hesitantly. “I just have a lot of questions. I guess I want to know . . .” I took a deep breath. “How are there still so many Floraes when their main food source—us—is mostly depleted? How have they not died of starvation, or left, or whatever?”
They considered for a moment.
“They could eat other things,” Haley offered.
I shook my head. “I don’t think so. I’ve never seen them eat vegetation. They are definitely carnivores.” I told them what I observed from the safety of my electric-fenced home. How they can’t see well, but have amazing hearing. What they looked like up close. What they smelled like—damp earth and rotting flesh. How they shuffled along until there was meat, then sprinted with single-minded determination.
“What about their blood?” Hector asked. “Is it red, green, thick, thin?”
“Blackish green. I don’t know how thick it is.” I remembered the night we met Amber, how that gang of men killed a bunch of Floraes, how their blood splattered against the sidewalk and pooled into the street. “Actually, it’s fairly thick, like syrup.”
Hector scribbled in his notebook before he looked up at me. “They don’t eat anything but meat. I think they get the rest of their nourishment from the sun.”
“What?” I asked, doubtful. “You figured that out in five seconds from greenish-black sludge-blood?”
“No, it’s been right in our faces the whole time,” he explained. “What are they called?”
“Floraes?” I felt dense.
“Florae is short for Florae-sapien. They’re plant people. It was so obvious, but they don’t educate us about the Floraes.”
“It makes sense,” Vivian said. “They’re green. They need the sun. They like to be underground at night.”
“They know,” Andrew spoke for the first time. “The people who run New Hope, they don’t want us talking about it.”
“What? Why not?” I asked. “Any knowledge that the people of New Hope have about the Floraes would only serve to help them. Wouldn’t it?”
Hector gave me a pointed look. “I don’t know. None of us have ever been asked to study them. Maybe the people in charge decided it wasn’t important?”
Meaning my mother decided: she and her creepy colleague Dr. Reynolds.
Suddenly Jacob looked grim. “Guys, maybe we should lay off the Florae talk. We don’t want to end up like Frank.”
“What happened to Frank?” I asked. A heavy silence followed and everyone looked uncomfortable.
“He was working on an undesirable project and was told to stop,” Jacob explained quietly. “He wouldn’t, so he was sent to the Ward.”
I looked at him. “I thought the Ward was supposed to be for people who were mentally unstable. What was his project?”
“Not sure,” Jacob told us, “but I know he wanted to study a Florae up close. It’s all he talked about. It became an obsession and I think it pushed him over the edge.”
“But they study them,” I said. “The Guardians do, in the wild,” I quickly added, not wanting to scare anyone, especially after Rice’s warning.
“So they must know a lot,” Haley chimed in.
“Like where they came from?” I asked. I turned to Hector. “Any clues about that?”
He shook his head.
“The news said they were aliens,” Tracey offered.
“But I’ve seen them, up close. They don’t have the intellect to turn a door handle; I don’t think they could have manned spaceships.”
“Why don’t you just ask the director?” Vivian asked me.
“My mother doesn’t talk to me about these things,” I admitted. “She’s a master at changing the subject.”
“Amy, she would have the answers,” Hector said. “If anyone does.”
“If they don’t like us to talk about the Floraes and don’t want anyone to know that they’re studying them, they know something they don’t think we can handle,” Andrew told us.
“What are they keeping from us?” Hector asked, dismayed.
“I don’t know,” I quietly replied.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
