by S. S. Segran
“I agree,” Tayoka murmured.
“It perturbs me that we must go to this length to take care of our ill, but now the concern lies with the safety of the community.” Tikina went up to Diyo and lifted the boy into her arms. “I will take care of him. You go ahead and strap our remaining patient down.”
* * *
“Are you sure he is properly restrained?” Akol asked, peering over his sister’s shoulder at Mitska’s mate. The old man lay on the bed with fiber bands wrapping his chest, abdomen and legs. He was asleep, looking ill and chalk-white.
“Trust me, Akol, he is.” Huyani checked the straps just in case, then stood by her brother. “This feels immoral, to fasten one of our kinfolk to the point where he can hardly move.”
Akol squeezed her shoulder. “I know, but it has to be done.”
The sound of footsteps outside the convalescence shelter alerted the pair and they turned in time to see the Elders enter. They approached and took a long look at Mitska’s mate. Nageau pinched the bridge of this nose. “This disquiets me. For generations we have been safe . . .” He let the sentence hang in the air.
The villagers remained still until Huyani timidly asked, “What has become of Fiotez’s body?”
“We have made arrangements for him to be buried soon,” Saiyu answered.
“And how is Diyo?”
Tikina, who had entered the shelter with the other Elders, sighed. “I brought him to his mother and informed her of what just occurred. The poor boy fell asleep whilst crying in my arms before we even reached his family’s home.”
The door to the convalescence shelter burst open and a young girl lurched in. “Oh, thank goodness you are all here!” she cried. “Elder Nageau, Elder Saiyu! My brother, he can hardly move!”
“No, no, no,” Ashack muttered. “Did this just happen?”
Before the girl could answer, another youth appeared, wearing the same expression of fear and panic. “Elder Tikina! My mother is ill! She needs help! She is muttering things that do not make sense—please, you must see to her!”
“Tikina, Tayoka!” Nageau barked. “See to this young man’s mother, please, and bring her here. Saiyu and Ashack, please look after this girl’s brother.” To Huyani and Akol, he said, “And I would appreciate it if you both could prepare a few more beds and bring out more straps.”
“Uh, Grandfather?” Akol raised his hand as if in a classroom environment. “There is the urgent matter of searching for our five missing guests . . .”
Nageau turned to Huyani. “Are you alright preparing the beds by yourself? I do not like leaving you to handle this alone. Perhaps you could enlist a couple of helpful hands?”
“Rest easy, Grandfather. I will cope.” Huyani departed with everyone else, leaving Akol and Nageau alone in the convalescence shelter with Mitska’s mate.
“Akol, I need you to take charge in gathering people to search for the five. I will leave it to you to decide how it should be done.” Nageau rested a strong hand on his grandson’s equally strong shoulder. “Are you able to handle it?”
Akol nodded sharply. “Good,” Nageau said. “If there is anything you need to see me about, I shall be with Magèo.”
* * *
Nageau briskly made his way toward one of the edifices near the greenhouse. Unlike the other structures surrounded by trees, this one was also nestled in a thick foliage of massive ferns. A trodden dirt path snaked between groves toward the door of the building. Constructed from stone and logs, the large structure was quite rustic but Nageau knew that inside those four walls, amazing inventions and creative ideas were brought to life.
The Elder knocked on the door. A voice yelled, “Who is it?”
“Nageau!” the Elder called back.
The door opened, revealing a tall, chubby man older than Nageau with sparse white hair on his balding head and a white beard hanging down to his stomach. He had brown skin and wide-stretched eyes of different colors. There were deep wrinkles on his forehead and lines around his mouth. When he saw Nageau, he bellowed a hearty welcome and bear-hugged the Elder.
“Nageau, my old friend! How nice to see you.” He turned around and said crisply, “Come inside, come inside. And please shut that door. It is not my favorite weather that greets us this late morning.”
“I find it curious that you are the only one in this village who does not enjoy the sun.” Nageau carefully closed the door behind him and followed Magèo.
“Well, you should not. We have known each other long enough for you to realize how much I despise that sweltering ball of heat. Makes me feel as though I am cooking inside this old body of mine. Ah, here is a stool you may rest on. Give me a moment and I shall join you.”
Nageau sat on the stool and watched as Magèo marched to one side of the room and pulled down on a large lever. Blinds lifted from twenty windows set high in the walls. Light filled the vast interior.
The building was a laboratory and design house, complete with long wooden benches and clay water-basins. Shelves that held different types and sizes of glass containers lined the walls, as did tall jars of brightly-colored liquids. The workshop was a chemist’s dream come true, which was precisely the reason why the laboratory was made for Magèo—Dema-Ki’s inventor and scientist, and admittedly a somewhat eccentric one at that.
Magèo glared up at the windows and muttered, “Perhaps I should design a device that would enable me to see perfectly without sunlight.”
“Perhaps,” Nageau said, adding firmly, “but there are more pressing matters to resolve first.”
“What? Oh, yes, yes, I know.” Magèo washed his hands in one of the sinks and hurried over to a bench lined with glass tubes in racks. “This is where I label the source of the water samples, but I do not conduct my experiments here.” He became quiet and stared up at the high windows with a distant expression.
“Magèo?” Nageau asked, trying to bring the man back. Magèo’s mind worked much differently from anyone else the Elder knew. “You were mentioning something about your experiments?”
“Ah, yes, yes.” Magèo reached over to grab two tubes filled with clear liquid. “Tell me if you can observe any difference between these, Nageau.”
The Elder cautiously sniffed both tubes twice, then narrowed his eyes to study the contents closely. “I detect no difference.”
“Well, allow me to tell you first that Tayoka’s suspicion about the water being contaminated is correct.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. Also, one of these two tubes holds the contaminated water.”
Nageau was dubious. “What?”
“See? If you with your heightened senses are unable to pick it up, then surely our regular ones will not be able to. However, I have set up an experiment to prove that the contaminant is indeed water-borne. Walk with me.”
Magèo brusquely led the way to the back of the room. Six large beakers sat on a table, each with a small fish inside. Nageau bent over to get a better look and noticed that only two out of the six fishes were moving. The rest all floated belly-up, dead.
“What in the world is this?” he asked, perplexed.
Magèo wore a big—though grim—smile. “That day when Tayoka and some villagers went out to collect samples from various water sources, they came back to me with their glass jars and I immediately got to work. As you can see, I have labeled each beaker with the names of the places where the water was taken. I had a young lad bring me these six healthy fish and I placed one in every beaker and watched them. These two that are alive and well were happy in their water.” He motioned to the other beakers. “The others were normal at first, but I spent an hour constantly observing their behavior and over that time they became quite agitated. Some even attempted to leap out of their beakers! They swam aggressively and splashed water everywhere. Within the next one to two hours, all four died.”
Nageau’s eyebrows met in a frown. “Have you heard of what happened a little while earlier?”
“No. Why?”
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“Fiotez went wild and attacked his son with one of the ancient swords. Blood and foam dripped from his mouth, and his eyes had a frenzied look. Then he fell to the ground and . . . died.”
Magèo’s jaw dropped. “That is uncanny! What a terrible loss!” He slumped against the table, head shaking as he tried to digest the news. “A fine fellow, he was. Bless his mate and child—they will need much support to carry on.” He stroked his beard thoughtfully. “He reacted as the fish did, only the fish became hysterical much more quickly because they have smaller physiologies and immune systems than we do.”
“As you can imagine, I came to tell you to please hasten with your research. Two more people have fallen into the clutches of this disease, and who knows how many others will succumb to it as well.” Nageau laced his fingers in front of his face and paced up and down the width of the room, lost in his thoughts. “So you have labeled the beakers, therefore you know in which areas the water is contaminated,” he murmured. “Have you tried to trace the source?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Have you attempted to figure out where the contamination is from? With the labels that you have, we could pinpoint it. There must be some sort of pattern.”
“Actually, no I have not. I have solely been focused on trying to find what the contaminant is, not where it came from.”
Nageau rubbed his chin. “Do you perchance have a map we could use?”
Magèo scuttled to a cupboard on the wall and returned with an old, rolled-up parchment. He unfurled it until it covered the entire tabletop.
Nageau leaned over it, eyes scanning. The map showed Dema-Ki as the central point and displayed a three-hundred-mile radius around the valley, portraying the topography of the entire area. The early Dema-Ki settlers had very thoroughly explored the landscape, as the map depicted every detail from mountains to clearings to waterfalls to creeks, and more.
Magèo and Nageau gazed at it for several moments, then looked at the labeled beakers of water with fish. Magèo tapped two areas on the map. “So, the two water samples where the fish are alive came from the river in our valley and the river on our sister valley’s western doorstep.”
“The creek to the east of us was where Fiotez refilled his water pelt before falling ill on his hunting trip. It branches off and gets its water from Mayet River, which forks out into two.”
Magèo nodded. “Indeed.” He peered down at the map once more, then back up at the beakers, then down at the map again. “The lake where Mitska’s mate camped at is also to the east of our valley, and is fed by the same river.” He slid his finger along it in the direction he knew it flowed. Nageau traced the other branch of Mayet in the same manner. Their fingers moved toward the right side of the map where they eventually met as the two rivers merged. They kept following until they reached the source of the water: a cluster of mountains miles to the north of Dema-Ki.
“The Ayen mountain range,” Nageau whispered. He looked at Magèo, an idea forming. “Old friend, how quickly could you design a method to test the water? It should be small enough to be carried in a pouch and, when submerged, will tell us if it is contaminated or not.”
Magèo scratched his nose, muttering to himself. “Well, it depends. First, I need to find out what type of contaminant we are dealing with. If I cannot identify the specific contaminant, I should be able to at least ascertain a group of contaminants that will react to my test methods. Give me a few sunrises.”
“We may not have a few sunrises.”
Magèo continued muttering. Without looking at Nageau, he said, “In that case, begone with you. I have work to do.” He retrieved a pair of thin gloves and scooted to the far corner of the building.
As Nageau turned to leave, the door of the laboratory opened and Akol entered, grasping a metal spear. “Grandfather, we are about to leave.”
“Where are your manners?” Magèo barked from the other end of the room. “Have your parents never taught you to knock and wait for permission to enter?”
If Akol had a tail, it would have been tucked firmly between his legs. He seemed to have missed the twinkle of humor in the old man’s eyes. “I am terribly sorry, Magèo. I had no intention to be rude or—”
“Quiet your mouth, boy. I am busy and therefore simply cannot engage in any conversation.” Magèo returned his full attention to his project and paid no more heed to the others in the building. Nageau grinned at his grandson, and Akol finally caught on that Magèo was not actually annoyed with him.
Nageau ushered Akol outside. Before the Elder closed the door, he called out, “I shall see you later, old friend.”
“What? Oh, yes, yes. Close that door!”
Outside, Akol listed off the names of the youths he had split into two search teams. “One of the groups will leave from the eastern end, and the group I am heading will take the western route through the neighboring valley. We will bring a few horses with us and pack everything we need.”
“Wonderful.” Nageau met his grandson’s eyes warmly. “You are growing up to be a fine young man, Akol. I am very proud of you.”
They shared a brief hug. Akol prepared to depart, then, but stopped. He looked over his shoulder and said quietly, “I had intended to ask Hutar to join us, considering his skills, but I do not think I trust him enough to work confidently with him.”
Nageau tilted his head slightly, and after a moment, said, “This is your decision to make, and I trust you to choose wisely.”
Akol allowed himself a small smile.
“Have you asked your grandmother for assistance?”
“Yes,” Akol replied. “She said not to worry and that she will be with us, just so long as we keep looking out for her.”
“That should not be hard. She will be using either of her favorites, Akira or Tyse.”
Akol waved to Nageau and jogged away to rejoin the group he would be leading to search for the missing friends.
20
Kody stared at the wrecked plane, dread knotting his insides. With his heart pounding, he raced toward it, quickly gaining speed until he was sprinting. “Dad!” His yells boomed across the small clearing. “Dad!”
His friends reached the mangled plane shortly after he did. They collectively shuddered at the thought that they had been inside when it crashed and somehow survived. The plane was upside down on the forest floor with its right wing charred. The left wing was nowhere to be found; not even a quick sweep could help the group locate it. As they ran their eyes over the aircraft, they noted that the tail had been torn clear off and was buried under two large broken branches.
Kody immediately headed for the cockpit. He knelt by the pilot’s window. “It’s dark inside. I’m gonna go in and see if”—he took a breath—“see if he’s there.”
Someone grabbed his arm, squeezing slightly. He turned to see Jag looking at him with something close to unease in his eyes. He tried to pull away, but the taller boy tightened his grip and said, “No. Let me do it. If he’s in there . . .”
Kody wrenched his arm free. “He’s my dad. I need to be the one to do this.”
They stared at each other for a long moment, then Jag stepped back. The friends watched Kody get down on his hands and knees and wriggle through the broken windshield. They waited for a few tense moments before he crawled back out. He sucked in a breath, then said, “He’s not in there. I think that’s a really good thing. He might have survived after all.”
“I guess the question now is,” Aari said, “where is he?”
“Let’s see what we can salvage from here before we do anything else,” Tegan suggested.
It took them a few minutes to move away enough debris from the plane so that Kody and Jag could get into the cabin safely. Inside, the pair surveyed the scene on their hands and knees. The cabin appeared mostly preserved, though it was a little hard to tell with the ceiling inverted. Kody looked up at the seats to make sure he wouldn’t bump his head and paused. Reaching under one of the seats, he yanked at
some fabric. When it wouldn’t come free, he used both hands to wrench the item out and it fell onto him.
“A bag that’s intact,” Jag said. “Nice find. Whose is it?”
Kody rummaged through the bag’s contents before looking at Jag in mild amusement. “’Riah’s. It’s got her, er . . . stuff in it.” He poked his head out of a broken window and came face-to-face with an ankle. “Um, hello?” He tapped the jeans-clad leg. “Who might this be?”
“It’s me, genius.” Mariah crouched down. “You guys find anything?”
“Your knapsack.”
“No way! It didn’t get burned or damaged?”
Jag good-humoredly nudged Kody aside to stick his head out the window. “Not really. It was hooked under the seat, so it probably got luckier than any of our other things.” He pulled his head back and stuck the bag out.
Mariah took it thankfully. “If you guys find other things, just call out and I’ll grab them.”
“Sure,” Kody said.
“Kody, wanna see if the radio’s working?” Jag asked.
Nodding, Kody crawled into the cockpit, finding it odd that he was kneeling on the ceiling of the plane, and looked up at the pilot’s seat. A quick glance into the chair was enough to see dark red stains splattered across it. Though it was the second time he’d seen it, he still felt sick.
Outside, he heard Mariah gasp. “Don’t tell me this is all you found. One can of clam chowder?”
“Relax, there are a few more here,” Jag said. “But if you ask me, it seems like the animals beat us to most of the provisions.” There was some shuffling around. “Here are two cans of tuna, and more cans of other stuff.”
Mariah clicked her tongue in distaste. “Tuna? Really? Better than nothing, I guess.” Her tone took on a hopeful lilt. “Are there any cans of Dr Pepper in there?”
“You Peppers and your obsession,” Kody called out as he checked the radio.
Jag chuckled. “Right? And no, there’s none.”
Mariah grumbled something about the money she’d wasted buying the drinks. Kody fiddled with the radio, only giving her half an ear. He smacked the control panel, annoyed, then crawled back to Jag. “I found the radio,” he said. “But it’s not working.”