by Susan Moore
They searched further afield for a while but could find nothing.
Doctor Tang shook her head and tutted. “We need more information about this plant, and fast.”
They all fell silent, the weight of the situation sinking in. Doctor Tang removed her glasses.
“I have an idea. I’ll get in touch with my old colleague Doctor Fred Fairlight. She specialises in new plants that have been crossbred from existing ones and knows all about fertilisers and their impact on the environment. We travelled to the Amazon together last year. If anyone could find the antidote, it’s Fred.”
Doctor Tang brought up her contact list on the table screen. A large red X was marked next to Doctor Fred Fairlight. To the right was a short update:
I am currently on expedition in Borneo and won’t be checking messages for six months. When funds run out, I will return. Don’t leave a message. I cannot pick it up.
Doctor Tang sighed. “Typical Fred. There’s only one thing for it, you need to find Jamu—”
A loud beeping alarm began to sound across the room. Doctor Tang jumped to her feet and ran for the door.
“I have to go, there’s an emergency in the lab. We’ll talk later.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
HUNTING BORJIGINS
Henry let out a long burp across Wen’s kitchen.
He grinned. “That was the best Popko juice ever. Can I have another one?”
“No, we’ve got to get to work on finding Jamuka,” said Nat, tapping Fizz’s head. His wings spread to reveal the screen. “The Clan’s last name is Borjigin, so if we search for them in Mongolia we might be able to find a contact number and get a message to them. Find Borjigin, Mongolia, Fizz.”
Fizz’s eyes flashed bright green. A list of Borjigin names started to spool on to the screen.
“Catch!” said Wen.
“Can you get your robots to work, please?” said Nat, glancing up to see her throwing another can of ice-cold Popko “Celebration” to Henry.
“Fu, find Borjigins in Mongolia pronto!” shouted Wen at her rabbit, who was lying in the sun at the window getting a quick solar charge. Fu squeaked loudly and thumped her foot on the window ledge.
“Please!” shouted Wen.
“Polite request accepted. Searching Borjigins, Mongolia.”
Wen growled. “That rabbit can be so annoying.”
“List complete. One hundred and fifty-three thousand, six hundred and twelve Borjigins listed in Mongolia,” announced Fizz.
Nat put her head down on the kitchen worktop and groaned. “Zoinks! That’s way too many.”
“We’ve got three robots so if we divide it by three it’s a lot less,” said Henry, burping again.
Wen started jumping up and down in a pair of bounding boots. With the spring-loaded heels she was flying up so high that her spiky hair was grazing the ceiling.
“No, I’ve got it. Fu, pleeeeeeeeeze do another search for Borjigins in the Hentii Mountains.”
Fu’s furry ears pricked up, she squeaked and started searching. Seconds later she announced, “Borjigins in Hentii Mountains is a null search.”
Nat rubbed her eyes. They felt gritty and sore. Just looking at the endless list on Fizz’s screen made her heart sink. Wen appeared at her side, bouncing up and down.
“You’re making me dizzy.”
Wen jumped up and sat down on the kitchen worktop next to her.
“I think well when I bound. Drives Mum mad too. But it gets results. As Henry says, there are three robots, so let’s start one off at the top of the list, one in the middle and one from the bottom up.”
“Doing what?” said Nat.
“They can auto-call-up the contact numbers listed.”
“But what do they do when someone answers?” said Henry, tipping the last drops from the Popko can into his mouth.
Nat looked out of the huge window with its multimillion-dollar view down from The Peak, across Victoria Harbour. A grey shroud of sea fog hung low over the water, blocking out Kowloon in the distance.
“Hmm … something about the Clan,” said Wen.
Nat sat up in her seat. She picked up Fizz. He purred as she cradled him in her hand.
“Great idea. We can set them up with a script, auto-translated into Mongolian, which asks if they know the Borjigin Clan in the Hentii Mountains. If they do then Fizz, Fu or NutNut asks them to hold, they alert us and then we speak to the Borjigin through auto-translate!”
Wen grinned. “Ding logical thinking! Your dad would have been proud of you.”
“Thanks,” said Nat, her voice soft.
Wen jumped down and bounded over to Fu.
“He was a legend. When you become one too, just don’t forget me.”
“Or me. Here,” said Henry, handing her NutNut. “NutNut, allow Fizz to link all.”
The squirrel’s ears twitched. She swivelled her head around to locate Fizz and her eyes lit up bright yellow.
“And here’s the big bunny for you,” said Wen, landing Fu on the worktop. “Fu, allow Fizz to link all.”
A paw thumped on the polished wooden surface.
“Please,” said Wen.
Nat worked hard perfecting and programming the script while Wen decided to design Henry a new T-shirt, declaring the one he was wearing as un-ding and dull.
“Done!” said Nat a long while later.
She climbed off the high stool, stretching her arms above her head. On the worktop stood the dragon, squirrel and rabbit in a circle. They were motionless except for their glowing eyes. Inside each one of them their circuits were buzzing, working at lightning speed, auto-dialling contact numbers, reading the script and processing the replies.
Nat looked around the kitchen. She was the only one there. Outside, fat droplets of rain were streaming down the windows.
She left the robots working and wandered across the kitchen, out into the vast marble hallway. Paintings of Wen’s fearsome ancestors glared down at her from the walls. She stepped on to the priceless silk rug and headed up the sweeping staircase to Wen’s room.
“The search is underway,” she said, finding Wen and Henry peering into Wen’s 3D printer. A black-and-purple-striped sleeve was slowly appearing in the output tray.
“Ai yah! I’ve forgotten to add the squirrel to the sleeves!” said Wen, pulling the printer plug out of the wall.
“Why did you do that?” said Henry with a frown.
Wen pulled the half-knitted sleeve from the tray. “It’s the only way to stop it.”
“The search has started,” repeated Nat.
Henry and Wen turned to her, wide-eyed.
“For the Borjigins,” said Nat, flopping down on to Wen’s bed. Her head sank into a soft feather-filled pillow. “For the Borjig…” She gave a huge yawn.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
SARAWAK TOURS
A sharp, smoky smell made Nat wake with a start. She opened her eyes to find Wen waving a steaming cup underneath her nostrils.
“Good, you’re awake. Drink,” she said, putting the cup to her friend’s lips.
Nat took a sip.
“Urgh!” she said, sitting up. “What is it?”
Wen grinned. “Vietnamese weasel coffee. Mum had some in the cupboard.”
Nat’s hand flew to her mouth. “Yuk!”
“It’s the only way I could get you to wake up.”
“How long have I been asleep?”
“Three hours.”
Nat gulped. “Have the robots found anyone?”
Wen shook her head. “They’ve made one thousand and thirty-one calls. Nothing. But I’ve got another idea.”
Nat swung her legs off the bed. “I need a Popko juice.”
“We should start a search for Doctor Fairlight in Borneo. Mum did say that if anyone could find an antidote it’d be Fred,” said Wen.
In the kitchen Nat found Fizz with his eyes half closed. His snout was flashing a dull orange. She took a large swig of cold Popko juice, fished out a cable fro
m her pack and plugged him in. Duh-duh-duh-duh-duh. He whirred into life. His eyes opened as Nat typed in her search and a list of multi-layered links scrolled up on his screen. Feeling a burst of energy from the Popko juice she began to go through them. A colourful jungle logo caught her eye: “Borneo’s Governmental Department of the Environment.”
“If Doctor Fairlight was going on an expedition, I bet they’d know about it,” she said. “Bintang Cho, Minister of the Environment, and here’s his phone number. I’ll need a voice masker as well as auto-translate.”
Henry’s eyes popped wide. “You’ve got a voice masker? Can I try it?”
Nat shook her head. She scrolled down the list of voices. “Let’s try this,” she said, selecting “Headmistress”.
She cleared her throat. “One, two, three, testing.”
“ONE, TWO, THREE, TESTING!” repeated a deep, booming lady’s voice. Henry jumped in fright.
“Ai yah!” said Wen, wincing.
“Fizz, call Bintang Cho,” said Nat.
A lady answered in a soft voice. “Good morning.”
“May I please speak to Mr Bintang Cho,” demanded Nat in her best Headmistress.
Henry and Wen started to giggle.
“Who may I say is calling?” said the lady.
“This is Nat Walker from Watchem Labs in Hong Kong. I have urgent business to discuss with Mr Cho.”
“One moment, please.”
A man answered.
“Minister, my name is Nat Walker and I’m calling on behalf of Watchem Labs in Hong Kong,” said Nat, butterflies flapping in her stomach.
“Yes, Ms Walker, and what can I do for you?” replied the minister, his voice friendly.
“We need your help, sir. We have urgent information for Doctor Fred Fairlight. We understand she is on an expedition in Borneo.”
“I haven’t seen Doctor Fairlight for over three months,” he replied.
Nat grinned. They had a lead. She gave the thumbs-up to the others.
“How can we contact her?”
“I issued Doctor Fairlight with a permit for an annual study of our native plants along the Sarawak river. She could be anywhere along it and I am sorry to say I have no contact details on file.”
“It is most urgent that we find her. It is a matter of life and death.”
There was a long pause before he replied.
“You could try Sarawak Tours. Doctor Fairlight travelled upriver with them.”
Henry grabbed NutNut off the kitchen worktop. He paused the Borjigin search and looked up a Sarawak Tours brochure. A row of brightly coloured boats appeared on screen. A stocky man was standing on board grinning. He had a gold tooth, which glinted in the sun, and wore a white T-shirt with “Sarawak Tours” emblazoned in orange.
“Thank you, Minister. You have been most helpful,” said Nat.
“I wish you good luck in your search,” he said, and hung up.
Henry activated the brochure. Footage from a tour began; lots of smiling tourists sitting at the back of a boat as it ploughed through muddy water. Sounds of the jungle boomed out of NutNut’s mouth.
“Call them!” said Wen.
A man answered.
“We took Doctor Fairlight to Nanga Gaat, long way upriver. Lot of baggage,” he said after Nat had finished her introduction.
“Do you know where she is now?”
“She camps at old log camp, making experiments.”
Henry found a map showing Nanga Gaat. Wen touched NutNut’s screen to zoom in. It showed a thin strip of muddy river surrounded by thick forest.
“Can we contact her?”
The man noisily sucked in air and tut-tutted. “No phones. Delivery boat goes one time month. Need Fred you go by boat.”
Nat hit the mute button and looked over at Wen. “What do we do?”
“Ask him how long it would take to get there,” she said.
Nat’s eyes widened.
“Hello? You there?” said the man.
Nat released the mute.
“If we come to Kuching, how long will it take to find Fred?” she asked.
“Two days. You want go? Take all credit cards.”
Chapter Thirty
THE CALL
Supper in the Walker family kitchen was served by Ming. She was using bamboo tongs to fill Nat’s bowl with a mound of greasy noodles.
“How was golf today?” said Aunt Vera frostily.
Uncle Fergal cleared his throat. “Good. Played a round with Xang Fu-Ping. Seems he’s being transferred to London.”
Aunt Vera arched one of her finely plucked brows. “He got a promotion too then.”
There was no reply from the other end of the table. A heavy silence hung in the air. Prissy picked at her food. Henry ate quickly, checking his watch every few seconds and glancing nervously at Nat.
“Bennett, show Hong Kong NewsAmp, please,” said Aunt Vera.
“Yes, ma’am,” said the house computer in the plummy tones of an English butler.
A reporter appeared on the Screenwall behind Nat’s seat.
“Today’s hottest amped-up news story comes out of Barzurka where it was reported today that a secret new weapon will be unveiled, which they claim will change world ord—”
“Call waiting from Doctor Tang for Mrs Walker,” announced Bennett, pausing the news report.
Aunt Vera’s chopsticks clattered on to the table. She jumped up and started fluffing her hair. Nat crossed her fingers under the table.
“Doctor Tang,” said Aunt Vera. “What a most pleasant surprise.”
Amplified through the surround speakers, Wen’s mother’s voice filled the room. “Mrs Walker, how kind of you to take my call. I trust all is well with you and your family?”
“Vera, please. Most well, and yours?”
“Very well, thank you, Vera. In fact, that’s why I am calling. We’re off to our beach house at Tai Long Wan tonight. I know it’s very short notice but Wen would be so happy if Nat could join us. Jun left for extra study school in Shanghai yesterday. Wen misses his company and since it’s only myself, my husband and Wen, I fear she might get bored. We would be most grateful if you would be so kind as to let Nat join us.”
Aunt Vera looked like the cat that had got the yak butter. Nat smiled. Wen had got the voice just right; she sounded just like her mother. Prissy was giving her dagger looks.
“Oh, Doctor Tang, goodness, what a kind invitation.”
Nat looked over to see her aunt in deep thought. The silence was uncomfortable; she should have said something more. Uncle Fergal cleared his throat. Nat’s heart missed a beat. What was Aunt Vera thinking?
“It might be a little difficult with Nat so…”
“I understand your concern but perhaps it might help if, once we’ve brought Nat back safe and sound, we arrange to have lunch at the Silver Dragon Club?”
Aunt Vera’s face lit up. Nice work, Wen. Aunt Vera had never been to Hong Kong’s most prestigious private members’ club. An invite meant a big step up the social ladder.
“Indeed,” she said. “We would be delighted to accept. Can I suggest that my daughter, Prissy, chaperone Nat…”
“What!” said Nat, jumping up from the table in fright.
Prissy scowled at her.
“I’m afraid not,” said Doctor Tang aka Wen. “We only have room for one extra guest in our Speedcopter. I do hope that won’t stop Nat from joining us.”
Nat sighed with relief. Thank goodness Wen was so quick.
“Oh, of course, I should have thought of that. Our friends the Wong-Xailais have the new generation Speedcopter FX 4. I forgot how compact they are.” Aunt Vera forced a shrill hyena laugh.
Uncle Fergal harrumphed and raised a bushy eyebrow. Henry held his head in his hands, cringing at his mother’s attempt to suck up to Doctor Tang.
“Wonderful, Vera. I’ll take that as a yes. Wen will be delighted,” said Wen. “I’ll have our driver pick up Nat within the hour.”
Chapte
r Thirty-One
ESCAPE
A stretch Grooverider glided up to the steps of Wetley Towers. A man in a white chauffeur’s uniform stepped out of the driver’s seat and walked round to the passenger door. Nat hoisted her backpack over her shoulder and tried to blink. She wasn’t used to the thick mascara and eyeshadow that had been applied by Prissy under strict orders of Aunt Vera. Prissy had raked her hair into a topknot and sprayed it hard like concrete. Worst of all was the Schmancy neon suit with a silver trim that felt like a straitjacket.
“Now,” said Aunt Vera. “Mind your manners. We don’t want to let the side down, do we?”
Nat forced a smile. “No,” she said.
Aunt Vera leaned in and pecked her on both cheeks.
“I’ll take Nat to the car, Mummy,” said Henry, taking Nat’s hand.
“How kind, Henry,” said Aunt Vera with a smile.
The chauffeur took Nat’s backpack as she slid into the back seat of the Grooverider.
“Ai yah, Nat! What has the witch done to you?” squealed Wen, giving her a hug. “A typhoon couldn’t destroy that hairstyle.”
“I wish I could come too,” moaned Henry, sticking his head inside the car. “Wow, this is as big as my bedroom!”
“You’re needed here, Henry,” said Nat. “Remember. You’re back-up.”
Henry’s cheeks began to burn. “Ku!”
“We’re counting on you,” said Nat, squeezing his hand. “We couldn’t do this without you.”
“Hurry up, Henry,” called Aunt Vera, tapping her stiletto on the marble steps.
“Got to go, good luck!” he said.
The door closed and the Grooverider moved off. Nat leaned back into the deep leather seat.
“You should check out what’s in my backpack. Aunt Vera stuffed it with a whole Schmancy wardrobe,” she said, trying to shake out her hair; it wouldn’t budge. She raked her fingers through it, but the hair stayed stiffly in place.
“Agh!” she cried in frustration, kicking off her pink wedges. “I just want to be me again.”