Battle of the Beetles

by MG Leonard

  Motty smiled at Virginia. ‘I think I’ve got it covered, but I’ll let you know if I need you.’

  At last Uncle Max came through the aircraft door, giving the ground crew the thumbs-up to remove the stairs. ‘Ready for take-off, captain,’ he called to Motty. He grinned. ‘Will all passengers please take their seats and fasten their seatbelts.’

  ‘How long is the flight to Ecuador?’ Darkus asked.

  ‘It’s not a simple journey,’ Uncle Max replied. ‘We go to Lisbon first, top up with fuel, then make the journey to Caracas, which is nearly nine hours. We refuel again, and then fly on to Quito in Ecuador. It will take us around twenty hours with all the stops.’

  ‘A whole day and night flying!’ Virginia marvelled. ‘Brilliant!’

  ‘I hope Mum’s OK.’ Bertolt blinked. ‘She’s probably missing me by now.’

  ‘I just hope no one finds the Biome before we get there,’ Darkus said.

  ‘Lucretia Cutter’s managed to keep its location a secret for this long.’ Uncle Max patted Darkus’s back. ‘It can’t be easy to find. Now, go and get the beetles into their case and grab a seat.’

  Darkus nodded. The Base Camp beetles had to be in the suitcase for take-off, for safety and comfort. He counted them as they filed into the mulch-filled case, settling and burrowing into their preferred nooks and crannies. Uncle Max’s reassurances about the Biome being hard to find hadn’t made Darkus feel any better. He hoped Dad was all right, not hurt, or trapped in one of Lucretia Cutter’s cells. His head drooped as he wondered how on earth he was he going to get inside her Biome and find him. This wasn’t like the last time they’d fought Lucretia Cutter: this was more dangerous. They were going deep into a jungle to fight her. He heard Virginia’s words, about him not being the kind of person who could kill, and he told himself that he could, that he would if he had to, but deep inside, he was frightened that Virginia was right.

  He thought of the billions of beetles that Lucretia Cutter controlled, and then looked down at the suitcase. There had once been so many beetles. Together, they might have been able to make a difference, but now? He sighed. They were hopelessly outnumbered.

  He felt the tickle of Baxter’s claws climbing up his neck.

  ‘Hey, Baxter, where are you going?’ He tried to look, but the rhinoceros beetle was already climbing round the back of Darkus’s ear and scrambling up through his thicket of dark hair. Darkus looked up. He could feel the beetle, but couldn’t see him. ‘What are you doing?’ Baxter shuffled forward and then, wings out, he launched himself off Darkus’s head, his hind legs wrapped around two strands of fringe. He lurched forward, jerking Darkus’s head up and then clattered down against his nose, swinging from side to side, his four free legs waggling idiotically, his mouth wide open in a huge smile.

  ‘OK, OK,’ Darkus laughed. ‘I’ll try and cheer up, you crazy beetle.’ He lifted Baxter down, and pulled the bamboo cage Dr Ishikawa had given him from his coat pocket. ‘You don’t need to go in the suitcase.’ He kissed Baxter’s thorax. ‘You can stay with me all the time now we’ve got this.’ Baxter wrapped all six of his legs around Darkus’s thumb and hugged it tight.

  Darkus eased Baxter into the little bamboo cage and gave him a lump of banana to munch on. Looping the strap over his head, he tucked the cage inside his green jumper. It was comforting having the rhinoceros beetle so close to his heart.

  He zipped up the suitcase and strapped it into a seat, before going and sitting down in his own.

  Bertolt sat down beside him. ‘We’re cleared for takeoff.’ He smiled at Darkus looking over his glasses. ‘Better put our seatbelts on.’

  Darkus nodded and fastened the belt across his lap. He looked out of the window at Václav Havel airport. He couldn’t help feeling the trip to Prague had been a waste of time. He’d thought they’d find an army of entomologists here, raring to fight Lucretia Cutter. Instead, he’d been doubted by a room full of dithering scientists. If they had flown straight to the Amazon they could have already got Dad, Novak and Spencer out of the Biome.

  ‘You’re very quiet,’ Bertolt said.

  ‘I’m fine.’ Darkus closed his eyes, gripping the armrests as the plane sped up, rocketing down the runway and lifting off the ground. In the darkness of his own head he heard the chimes of the skeleton on the astronomical clock. We’re running out of time, he thought.

  He heard Virginia whisper to Bertolt: ‘Is he OK?’

  ‘Um, yes. I think he’s tired.’

  ‘I’m going to go to the cockpit when the seatbelt light goes off. You coming?’

  ‘No,’ Bertolt replied. ‘I think I’ll stay here and read. You know,’ he lowered his voice, ‘make sure he’s all right.’

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  The Land of Predator and Prey

  The heat of Ecuador hit Darkus as soon as the cabin door was opened. He took his jumper off, tying it round his waist, and opened the bamboo cage, so Baxter could clamber on to his shoulder. Uncle Max had said there were only two seasons here, so close to the equator: a summer season and a rainy one. January fell in the middle of the rainy season, and sure enough, despite the heat, fat droplets of rain were flinging themselves at the ground as if it were a long-lost relative.

  Darkus, Bertolt and Virginia bundled out of Bernadette, and into the airport, under an enormous rainbow-striped golfing umbrella held aloft by Uncle Max. ‘I’ve hired us a jeep,’ he said, as they walked towards a grey Portakabin with a handwritten cardboard sign in the window saying Alquiler de Coches. ‘We’re driving out of town to a hotel called Selva Vida Lodge, which is as far into the rainforest as we can get by car. We’ll rest for a night, and tomorrow we will begin our trek into the jungle.’ He surveyed the horizon and sighed. ‘It’s such a shame we don’t have more time. Quito is one of my favourite cities. I’d love the chance to show you around.’

  ‘You’ve been here before?’ Virginia asked.

  ‘Oh, yes. I studied the archaeological dig at Tulipe, a fascinating site, built by the Yumbo people somewhere between 800 and 1600 AD.’

  Motty hopped into the passenger seat of the jeep as Uncle Max started the engine and Virginia, Darkus and Bertolt scrambled into the back.

  ‘Quito is the capital city of Ecuador and is built on the foundations of an ancient Incan city,’ Uncle Max shouted over the din of the engine. ‘There are many interesting ruins around here.’

  ‘Wait, there are no seatbelts!’ Bertolt cried.

  ‘Oh, well, better hold on tight,’ Uncle Max laughed as the jeep bounced down the road away from the airport and the rain hurled itself at the tarpaulin roof. ‘Did you know that Quito is the second highest capital city in the world?’ he said over his shoulder. ‘It’s in the foothills of the Andes Mountains. It’s also the city second closest to the equator, AND,’ he hooted with glee, ‘it’s right beside an active volcano!’

  ‘Volcano?’ Bertolt squeaked.

  ‘It’s the perfect place for our greatest adventure,’ Virginia said happily.

  ‘It’s not the volcanoes you have to worry about,’ Motty said, knowingly. ‘It’s the earthquakes.’

  ‘Earthquakes?’ Bertolt wailed.

  ‘Brilliant!’ Virginia smiled at Darkus. ‘It’s good to finally be here, isn’t it?’

  Darkus nodded, looking out at the glowing greens and bright browns of the Ecuadorian farms. The colours were different here. Uncle Max drove for several hours, pointing out and naming mountains, volcanoes and plants, telling stories about the history of Ecuador. All the while Darkus stared at the tree-covered mountains ahead. His father was in there somewhere, hidden and held captive by Lucretia Cutter.

  ‘I’m coming, Dad,’ he whispered, and Baxter – the only one close enough to hear him – tenderly rubbed a tusk against his neck. Sometimes Darkus thought it crazy that a beetle understood him better than anyone else, and sometimes it made perfect sense.

  Back in London, Darkus had thought the waiting to leave had been awful, but now he was here, in E
cuador, he felt worse. His thoughts kept crashing into each other like thunderclouds, raining drops of dread on his heart. He told himself the Biome was just a building with a laboratory inside it and possibly an insect farm, containing millions of beetles. Lucretia Cutter’s beetles. A powerful, angry army of them.

  Darkus had been racking his brains ever since the Film Awards, trying to think of ways he could destroy Lucretia Cutter’s beetle army, but one thought tripped him up time and time again.

  If I kill her beetles, does that make me as bad as her? He stared up at the tree-covered mountains where she was hiding. What is the difference between me destroying thousands of her beetles and her burning down Beetle Mountain?

  The truth was, he didn’t want to kill any beetles, not ever, not even Lucretia Cutter’s.

  He touched his forefinger to the sharp point of Baxter’s horn. Baxter and the other beetles from Beetle Mountain were all once Lucretia Cutter’s beetles. They came from her laboratories.

  Virginia’s words berated him. I don’t think you’re the type of person who can kill. He looked at her. The rain had stopped, and she was on her knees, unhooking one side of the tarpaulin roof. She poked her head out, above the top of the jeep, the wind whipping back her braids as Marvin clung on for dear life.

  ‘Look! Chickens!’ Virginia whooped, pointing. ‘Bananas! Look! Look! A cow!’

  I’m not an adventurer, Darkus realized, his heart sinking. Virginia’s an adventurer. Words his uncle had once said about his father came to him: ‘His adventures were in thought. He explored the very fabric of nature, experimented with possibility, and all within the confines of his own head.’

  Maybe I’m like Dad. Darkus looked down at Baxter, whose elderberry eyes gazed back at him, unblinking. Maybe I’m a scientist. The rhinoceros beetle opened his mouth, smiling. Who is standing up for the beetles here? he thought. No one. Why is everything always about humans? He turned his head and looked out of the window at the lush vegetation randomly interrupted by an oil well or a farm. He was the Beetle Boy. Maybe it wasn’t just Dad, Novak and Spencer that he should be rescuing. Maybe the beetles needed rescuing too. A tiny seed of a plan sprouted in his mind.

  Turning off the road on to a dirt track, orange mud sprayed up through the open windows and Virginia squealed with delight. Darkus gritted his teeth to stop from accidentally biting his own tongue as the jeep hopped down the trail.

  ‘UuuuuUuuuuuuUuuuUuuUuUuUuuuu!’ Virginia’s mouth hung open as she enjoyed the bumpy vibrato. She fell silent when, out the other side of a grove of tall trees, the jeep came to a sudden stop in front of a lake. ‘Oh, wow!’ Virginia stood up on the car seat, looking about. ‘This place is amazing.’

  ‘Are we all OK?’ Uncle Max turned round.

  ‘I feel sick,’ Bertolt admitted quietly. ‘Are we here?’

  ‘Not quite.’ Uncle Max pointed. ‘The lodge is over the water. We get there by boat.’

  Bertolt moaned, but Virginia couldn’t get out of the jeep fast enough.

  A footpath led to a wooden walkway, suspended above the water on poles. On the far side of the lake, Darkus could see a wooden structure hidden amongst the trees. A rickety old motorboat with a blue canvas covering was already putt-putting across the water towards them. On the near bank, a cloud of mosquitoes vibrated above the surface of the lake, occasionally penetrated by a brightly coloured, goggle-eyed dragonfly looking for a spot of dinner.

  ‘We get one night in a comfy bed,’ Uncle Max said, lifting the suitcase out of the back of the jeep, ‘so enjoy it.’

  ‘I’m looking forward to getting back in a hammock,’ Darkus said, and Uncle Max laughed.

  ‘This is the BEST place ever,’ Virginia said as Darkus came to stand with her at the end of the wooden jetty. ‘Even better than LA.’

  ‘Can you smell the forest?’ Darkus looked beyond the lake to the lush green expanse of trees and smiled.

  Virginia nodded. ‘The whole place stinks of humid trees and it’s glorious.’

  She was right: this was the most wonderful place on earth. He spotted a pair of red-and-green macaws up on a high branch, and, suddenly remembering the Film Awards, lifted the bamboo cage to his shoulder.

  ‘In you get, Baxter. We mustn’t forget, this is the land of predator and prey. I don’t want you to get eaten.’ He nudged Virginia. ‘You should put Marvin in his cage too, look.’ He pointed at the birds.

  Bertolt cautiously shuffled along the walkway to join them. Newton was already inside the tiny cage around his neck. ‘You should strap yours to your head, like a hat,’ Virginia giggled, ‘in case Newton gets homesick for your hair.’

  The boat pulled up alongside the jetty, and they piled in. Even Bertolt smiled as they glided serenely across the lake to the lodge.

  On the far shore, a zigzag of boardwalks took them to the entrance. Darkus and Virginia ran ahead, excited to see where they were spending the night. The lodge was a large wooden building, with a reception, restaurant and hanging-out area. A cluster of log cabins, each on stumpy stilts with a pointed roof of bamboo canes, were scattered around it.

  The manager of the lodge, a cheerful Ecuadorian called Miguel with a toothy smile led them to their cabin.

  ‘Family suite,’ he said, pushing open the door.

  Virginia bounded in and looked around. ‘Awesome!’

  Two giant double beds and one single, each with white mosquito nets draping down over them, stood on a floor of polished soft wood. There was a circular table in the centre of the room, on it a glass bowl of delicate orchids and above, on the ceiling, a rotating fan keeping the room cool.

  ‘This is how I imagine paradise.’ Bertolt pushed the bathroom door open so they could see the beautifully lit sanctuary of cappuccino-coloured mosaic tiles and white porcelain.

  ‘Motty and Virginia, you take one bed,’ Uncle Max pointed. ‘Darkus and Bertolt, you can take the other. I’ll take the single. No one wants me snoring in their ear.’

  ‘Oh, dear.’ Motty was standing beside a wooden desk on the other side of the hut. Fanned out across the top was an assortment of international newspapers. She held up the Daily Messenger so they could read the headline:

  FASHION EXPLOSION – COUTURE FACTORY BOMBED!

  International forces identified the Indian Cutter Couture textile factory as a possible source of the rogue beetles which have been plaguing food harvests around the globe. In a series of strategic strikes, planned with the support of the Indian government, the Cutter Couture textile factory was reduced to rubble last night. There are no reports of casualties, and locals said the factory had been abandoned for some time.

  Witnesses later reported that the bombing of the factory lit a fuse that triggered an explosion and the collapse of an abandoned farmhouse three miles up the road.

  This second explosion released a mile-wide swarm of coconut rhinoceros beetles and Oriental flower beetles, which descended on the neighbouring farmland. Desperate farmers are now reporting plagues of beetles attacking their coconut palms and mango crops.

  ‘They are bombing her!’ Bertolt’s eyes grew wide. He looked at Darkus.

  ‘Yes.’ Virginia walked over to Motty, taking the newspaper. ‘But Lucretia Cutter bombed them right back. That swarm of coconut rhinoceros beetles and Oriental flower beetles, and the fact it was empty means she was expecting them to blow up her clothing factory. She wanted them to.’

  ‘But it means that if they find it, they could blow up the Biome!’ Bertolt said, his voice trembling.

  ‘Although . . . if they are bombing her factory in India,’ Darkus realized, ‘that means they don’t know about the Biome yet.’

  ‘I’d bet any money that wherever Lucretia Cutter is is the safest place in the world,’ Uncle Max said with a sigh. ‘And I’d hope that any government would think twice before dropping bombs in the Amazon rainforest. It would do terrible damage to the ecology of the planet.’

  ‘You would hope they’d think twice,’ Motty muttered, ‘but hu
mans can be very stupid.’

  Darkus’s head ached. He needed to clear his head and get some air. Stepping out of the cabin, he noticed – across the clearing – a viewing tower. A giant ladder had been strapped to an enormous tree trunk and at its top was a circular platform, which enabled the viewer to look in any direction. Darkus was drawn towards it.

  ‘Hey,’ Virginia shouted, jogging up beside him. ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘I want to climb up there and take a look.’ Darkus pointed.

  ‘Oooo, me too.’

  ‘Wait for me,’ Bertolt called after them. ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘We’re going up there,’ Virginia called over her shoulder, pointing up.

  Bertolt paused, looking at the high tree. He swallowed, but then scurried to join them. ‘Remember to check for snakes,’ he said. ‘My book says to always check for snakes before climbing anything.’

  Darkus went first, with Bertolt in the middle and Virginia at the back. When they reached the platform, Darkus leant on the wooden balustrade and Virginia whistled as all three of them stared out over the undulating treetops.

  ‘It’s like a sea of broccoli,’ she said, and then, after a minute, ‘I’m hungry.’

  The sun was setting and the sky was smeared with pink and yellow.

  ‘Lucretia Cutter is in there somewhere,’ Darkus said, resting his chin on his hands. ‘And so is my dad.’

  Virginia and Bertolt nodded.

  ‘Do you think . . .’ Darkus paused, ‘. . . do you think Lucretia Cutter’s beetles are bad?’

  Virginia screwed up her face as she thought about the question.

  ‘I don’t suppose they’re bad,’ Bertolt said. ‘It’s that Lucretia Cutter’s making them do bad things.’

  ‘Yeah.’ Darkus nodded. ‘That’s what I think too.’

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  A River Runs Through It

  Humphrey growled at the howler monkeys up in the trees. They were hurling branches and large seeds at him, taunting him with hooting cries and laughing.