Concisus Read online

  The problem is I’m not enough for Andi’s anger. Over the next few weeks, she finds reasons to banish all of her friends from her sight. Soon Jeremy is the only one she’ll willingly allow into her room.

  I hate sitting helplessly by while my friend is consumed by anger and depression. I can’t wait until the spring, so I seek out Jeremy’s help. He’s not in Andi’s room; the nurses kicked him out to get some rest, but I doubt that’s what he’s doing. I find him in his lab, tinkering with Andi’s robot, by smashing it with its own arm. Andi’s not the only one who’s hurting. I remain by the door and wait. Once Jeremy has exhausted himself, I loudly slam the door open to make it seem like I just arrived. Jeremy wipes his eyes with his sleeve before he turns around.

  “Hi Brett, I didn’t expect you.” Jeremy smiles warmly, but he can’t hide his puffy red eyes or the deep set circles under them.

  “I know.” I walk over and wrap my arms around him.

  His body goes rigid, but soon he sinks into my hug and sobs. “She’s worse. I don’t know what to do. She doesn’t want to eat, she barely sleeps, and now I can hardly get her to look at me let alone talk to me.”

  “I may have a solution, but I’ll need your help.”

  He responds with a relieved whimper. “Whatever you need, just tell me.”

  I tell Jeremy everything I know and suspect about the opal berries. I explain the berries are out of season, but that I hope to find them further south, where Caper migrated to.

  Jeremy starts moving around the lab, as if he’s searching for something. With his back still to me he says, “Meet me here tomorrow morning. I think I can help with your transportation issue.”

  I head back to the field lab and inform Ryan that I have transportation and I’m going to locate Caper and the opal berries.

  To my surprise Ryan doesn’t try to talk me out of it, but instead says, “Locating Caper shouldn’t be an issue.”

  “What do you mean?” I ask, suspicious.

  “I put a tracker in Caper,” he admits.

  “You did what?!”

  Ryan pins my hands and pulls me to his chest. “Be mad at me if you want, but I knew you’d never do it. You wouldn’t risk breaking his trust. After he started scaring people on the base, I thought it was necessary. So, I inserted one. I used a satellite-linked tracker so now it’ll lead us right to Caper and the opal berries.”

  “I’m still mad at you for going behind my back,” I grumble, “but for Andi’s sake, I’m glad you did.”

  We meet Jeremy at his lab only to have him lead us to a warehouse boardering the airfield. Inside the building’s storage bay is a small silver plane.

  I struggled to keep my fear at bay as I examine the long sleek plane. I run my hand along the long tapered tail made of the same light metal as Andi’s igloo. The plane is more wings than body and I doubt Ryan and I can both fit in the small oval cockpit.

  “Can it fly?” Ryan asks.

  “It will, but we never got a chance to test it. We built it in secret, hoping to search for the two of you, but then you returned on your own.”

  “It’s probably better that you didn’t test it, small engine planes aren’t known for being quiet. The moment you start it up, every soldier on the airfield would have heard.” Ryan runs a hand along a propeller blade.

  “It’s actually a motorized glider.” Jeremy points to a large metal box behind the plane. “We planned on a winch launch. The building will mute the noise of the winch and the extra long cable will ensure you’re airborne well before you near the building. Out in the field you can use the propellers to take off.”

  Acid bubbles and churns in my stomach. Hurling an untested plane towards a warehouse is more than I bargained for. Ryan and I might wind up little red smears on the pavement. I want to help Andi, but this plan is too reckless, even for me. Maybe waiting until spring is our best option.

  “I need to think about this,” I say.

  A look of panic creeps into Jeremy’s eyes. “I know is sounds scary, but our plans were based on existing motor gliders and winch launching. The technology is nothing new.” I shake my head at the plane and Jeremy adds, “I’ll take it myself if you need me to, but then they’ll be no one to look after Andi. She still won’t let anyone else near her, and what would she think if I suddenly stopped visiting her?”

  “I can do the flying.” Ryan offers.

  “Great! I’ll tell my field manager I want to design a solar plane and need pilot training, but you can sleep in my pod instead.” Jeremy replies, sidestepping between me and Ryan as if it will prevent me from voicing my concerns. I hear the mix of desperation and hope in Jeremy’s voice and know there’s no way I can back out.

  Chapter 24

  Frost still clings to the pavement when Ryan and I roll the plane onto the airfield. Jeremy remains in the warehouse prepping the winch. I harness my parachute on and hand the other to Ryan. Then we both strap ourselves into the plane. The moment Ryan clamps the cockpit lid shut I feel claustrophobic. I concentrate on taking slow even breaths and curl my hand around my father’s ring that still hangs on my necklace.

  “Ready.” Ryan calls into the radio. I watch the cable slowly snake taunt and disappear under the plane’s nose. Then we lurch forward. The plane rapidly gains speed, pressing me against my seat. I close my eyes and dig my nails into my seat praying not to die. My stomach drops and I know we’re airborne, but I don’t relax or open my eyes until we stop climbing and Ryan evens out the plane.

  I see the dining halls and recreation halls below us. They look the size of lego blocks, but it’s not as scary as I feared it would be. It’s actually pretty amazing viewing the base and its distinct grid pattern from above. I gain a new appreciation of just how large married housing has grown. Originally the houses numbered in the hundreds, now I’d estimate the number is over one thousand.

  We follow the construction road toward the sea. Only the skeletons of trees line the road. The varying silver and blue hues of the barks are interesting but if it were any other season the view would be spectacular. Of course if it were any other season we’d already have the berries.

  My stomach clenches when Ryan suddenly slows the plain. While Ryan received his training from Jeremy’s pod, I read all the information I could find on gliding. I know he’s just dolphining, slowing down to gain altitude while crossing a thermal lift, but I can’t shake the fear that we’ll slow down too much and crash. The engine and the propellers kick on causing me to jump. Winter’s the worst season for thermal lifts and the reason why we’re heading towards the sea –we need a convergence zone. Right where the colder sea air converges with the warmer land air a narrow band of soarable lift can form. If we can find the convergence zone we can potentially follow it the entire way down the coastline without ever using the propellers and precious fuel to maintain altitude.

  The trees thin and then disappear, replaced by grassy plains. I smell the salt in the air a moment before Ryan banks right and cuts the propellers. I feel the plane lift and know Ryan found what he needed.

  I glance to the left and see a rocky beach followed by the deep blue ocean that expands as far as my eyes can see. It brings back memories of my home back on earth, collecting shells, hermit crabs and whatever else I could find in the tide pools. I blink back bittersweet tears and stare out the other side of the plane. The grass, rocky cliff, and forests we pass are foreign enough to keep my thoughts in the present.

  Against the odds our plan is working. We’ve made it off the base without crashing or getting shot down, and hopefully without detection. If Jake and Molly successfully cover for us, no one will ever know we’ve left the base. But I’m getting ahead of myself, we still need to get far enough south, safely land, and find the berries.

  The minutes drag on into hours. The sun is now high in the sky, but the terrain remains the same barren view. I’m not hungry, but I pass Ryan a sandwich and eat one as well. We haven’t had to use the propellers since arriving at the coast
, but gliding isn’t nearly as fast as a regular plane would be. As the sun sinks lower, I worry that we’ll run out of sun before we get far enough south.

  Purple and pink streaks decorate the sky by the time we get our first glimpse of green grass. Not too long after we see heavily leaved trees and blossoming flowers. Ryan continues flying south until we find a river that corresponds with Caper’s latitude. Then he engages the propellers and continues upstream until we site a berry patch. Circling wider and wider we hunt for a suitable landing site and find a large grassy field only a few miles away.

  “Hold on tight, with the long grass this could be rough.” Ryan warns.

  I stifle a groan. Why did he have to say anything? Images of my parents crashing flash through my mind. I clasp my seat and watch as the ground gets closer and closer. There’s a jolt as the wheels make contact. The plane bumps along the ground before coming to a rest. I slowly let out the breath I’ve been holding and look at the scenery around us. Tall green grass with even taller exotic looking flowers surrounds the plain. Fortunately none of them resemble tiger lilies, so I take a deep breath and enjoy the scent when Ryan opens the cockpit lid.

  It’s nearly dark, so we set up the igloo and make camp. Déjà vu hits me as I crawl into the metal tent, but this time we’re better equipped with warm winter coats, a space heater, and flashlights. We have a long day ahead of us, so we quickly eat and get to bed. It’s several hours earlier than my usual bedtime, but feeling safe and warm in Ryan’s embrace, I drift into sleep.

  We spend the next morning clearing a takeoff path with two manual mowers Jeremy invented for us. Because of the lack of space on the plane, the mowers are tiny, but their made of the same metal as the airplane and the igloo so at least the blades don’t dull. Our progress is slow and it’s well past noon by the time we finish, but at least we’ll be able to take of the moment we return with the berries.

  We grab our packs and head toward the berry patch. The underbrush is denser than back at home, and at several points we need a machete just to clear a path through the strange vegetation. Large green leaves the size and shape of elephant ears hang just above our head and gnarled roots covered in blue moss jut up from the ground. Vines of every shape and color intertwine to make a nearly impassible web. At one point we reach a tiny clearing that’s filled with aloe plants, the only difference is they have a small green pod in the center of them. Their spaced far enough apart that we can step between them, but Ryan insists we go around, which means chopping more vines. I’m not happy about it, but how can I expect Ryan to trust my instincts if I don’t trust his.

  I’m feeling battered and bruised by the time we reach the river and follow the side stream to the berries, but one look at the beautiful opals glistening in the sun is all I need to brighten my spirits. We want Andi’s berries to be as fresh as possible, so we’ll pick them in the early morning right before we return to the plane. With plenty of time to spare, Ryan and I go for a swim and then gorge ourselves on berries. I’d forgotten how deliriously intense the taste of the berries are. Sweet and tangy and fruity all at the same time, I end up eating too much and can barely move as I lay drying on the marble rock.

  Ryan groans and rubs his stomach. “Remind me not to do that again.”

  “I guess you can have too much of a good thing.” I laugh, but then something catches my eye. “Hey, look. It’s Max.”

  Ryan props himself up and looks over at the stone slug. “I guess Lapideus Limax are indigenous to this warmer biome. Hey look, there’s a few more over there.”

  I crane my neck and look where he’s pointing sure enough there’s three more, grouped together. One of the stone slugs is tiny. “I wonder if they’re a family.”

  “Maybe, they seem to like the berry patch.” He points to several more stone slugs hiding under bushes.

  “We should search for them in the spring. I bet they’re all around the berry patches back home. We just never noticed them because we didn’t know what to look for.” We spend the rest of the afternoon counting and observing the stone slugs. The possible correlation between the Lapideus Limax and the opal berries intrigues me.

  Ryan and I are up before dawn collecting the berries by flashlight. Our plan is to arrive at the plane just after dawn and make it back to the base by late afternoon. The first part of our plan goes well. We get to the river and follow it back to our recently hacked trail. We stumble and slip a few times, but because of the cleared path we arrive at the grassy field with plenty of time to spear. There’s not even a hint of pink in the sky yet.

  Before I can step into the field, Ryan’s arm flies across my chest. “Hold up. I hear something.”

  I hold my breath and listen to what sounds like snoring. We carefully use our flashlights to search the field and discover a group of shaggy animals sleeping in out runway. The smallest creature in the group is about my size, the largest make the plane look tiny.

  “Great.” I complain in a whisper. “I hope they’re just here to sleep and haven’t made our runway their new home.”

  “We’re not waiting to find out. Leave your stuff and follow me.” Ryan says as he turns back on the trail.

  He leads me to the aloe plants he made me avoid yesterday.

  “Hold the light on the roots,” he instructs as he hands me his flashlight. I watch as he carefully digs around the plant and exposes its roots. Then he moves on to the next plant and repeats the process. When he has four plants with exposed roots he grabs each one by the roots and yaks it out of the ground.

  “Each leaf is full of the foulest smelling, sticky liquid you can imagine and the pod is filled with a powder that’s twice as potent. Handle it by the roots only, and don’t let it bang against anything,” Ryan warns. He waits for me to band my flashlight to my arm with the built in strap and then hands me two plants.

  I’m relieved when we make it back to the grassy field with all the plants intact, but then I see all the hairy animals are still lounging in our runway. In the early morning light the animal’s fur is a bright rust color and while they looked round and fat last night, now I can tell all that bulk is muscle. They look like someone took a water buffalo and crossed it with the sleek powerful muscles of a cheetah. The largest one yawns and displays a mouth full of sharp teeth.

  “Can you set up an igloo? I don’t think we can outrun these things if my plan backfires.” Ryan carefully places his plants on the grass and takes mine from my hands.

  Andi designed the igloo for a quick and easy set up, not a quiet one. I cringe with every click and clank it makes, but eventually I get it erect without the hairy creatures charging at us.

  “Here goes nothing.” Still holding onto the roots, Ryan tosses a plant into the field. The plant lands closer to us than the animals and busts apart. A green cloud rises up in the air and green slime oozes onto the ground. I wrinkle my nose at the smell. If it had landed any close I’d probably be gagging. The hairy animals appear unaffected.

  Ryan looks down at the remaining plant in his hand, and then he bounces it as if gauging its weight. “Don’t get too close,” Ryan warns as he spins the plant in a circle above his head and then turns around as if he’s competing in a hammer throw. This time when he releases the plant it goes sailing through the air and lands right next to the runway. Some of the green goo splashes up, coating the fur on one of the animals and the green powder fills the air. The animals grunt and snort, and then take off in a run. Every time the slime coated animal approaches one of the others, they pick up speed or change direction. When the slime coated one brushes another animal, the rest of the pack start avoiding it as well. Ryan wasn’t kidding about the plant’s smell being powerful.

  We grab our packs and run back to the plane, eager to take off before any other animals decide to sunbathe in front of the plane. It’s a little later than we planned on, but Ryan assures me we’ll make it home before night fall. I’m so anxious about getting the berries back to Andi that I don’t worry about takeoff until we
’re already bouncing along the grass runway. I hold my breath when I see the trees approaching, but Ryan easily clears them.

  Before I know it we’re back at the coastline heading home. I wouldn’t have thought it possible, but after watching the ocean for a while, I drift to sleep. When I wake up we’re flying over land.

  “We can’t be that close to the base already,” I say. By the look of the sun it can’t be any later than mid-afternoon.

  “No, we still have an hour or two.” Ryan says as I notice the hum of the propeller.

  My stomach drops. “Then why are we over land?”

  “We needed to cut off some time after or late start. Don’t worry we have plenty of fuel and I’ve been hitting some pretty good lifts.” Ryan reassures me.

  Despite his claim and his confident tone, the last thing I feel is reassured. If he’s miscalculated we could end up stranded in the middle of nowhere again, but this time in the middle of winter and Andi will never get her berries.

  I spend the rest of the day white knuckled, imagining every worst case scenario possible, but in the end, its wasted energy. Ryan finds the base and lands the plane in the grassy field near our field lab. We park the plane near the tree line and use brush to camouflage it.

  Before we walk back to the lab, Ryan sweeps me up in his arms and kisses me. I’m still catching my breath when he says, “We did it. We pulled off your crazy, reckless plan.”

  “I couldn’t have done it without you and Jeremy’s plane.” I gesture back toward our pile of brush. “I just hope the berries actually work.”