by Sheila Grau
The man got up and left. The yeti girl came out of the kitchen to clear his bowl. She seemed to scowl harder in Rufus’s direction.
“Hey, Alasie,” he said. “How’s probation?” And then he laughed.
The yeti girl, Alasie, grabbed the bowl and returned to the kitchen. No wonder she was so gruff. She must have been the one who’d fought with Rufus on the last trip.
Rufus took the man’s seat. Jud stood next to him.
“Okay, here’s the deal,” Rufus said. “Apparently Dr. Pravus sent a team here, which is freaking Professor Murphy out. He wants us to split up into smaller teams. We’re going to meet tomorrow morning at camp. Professor Murphy will come get you guys when he picks up our guides. We’re each going to take a different section of the crater while Professor Murphy and Darthin try to get more information from the locals, but they’re a bunch of backwards hicks and impossible to talk to.”
He was so rude, my jaw dropped open. I looked at the others in the room, hoping they hadn’t heard him.
“Hello?” he said sarcastically. “Do you think you and kitty can be ready tomorrow morning at seven?”
“Um, sure,” I said.
With that, my dour host came out of the kitchen and stood behind Rufus. Rufus turned around, right into the big man’s gut.
“Told you to stay away,” the big guy said.
“Relax, Jimbo,” Rufus said, standing up. If he’d wanted to face down the big man, it didn’t work. Rufus, as big as he was, only came up to his chin. “I’m just talking to my friend here.”
Jimbo grabbed Rufus by the jacket and turned him around. “You go. Now.”
“I’m going, I’m going,” Rufus said. “Runt, see you tomorrow at camp.”
“Okay,” I said.
He left, laughing with Jud. After the door shut behind them, conversations resumed. I could tell the people here did not care for Rufus. You and me both, I wanted to say.
And then I noticed that my jacket was the same as Rufus’s, and their hatred of me made sense.
I finished my soup as the other diners gradually left, each one saying good-bye to the host. Most of the guests called him “Big Jim.”
The yeti girl came out to clear and wipe down the tables. She wore an apron around her furry white waist. She was about my height, with huge hands and a scowling glare. No wonder Darthin had been too afraid to talk to them last time.
As she passed me, I said, “Big Jim? His name is Big Jim? And you’re Alasie?”
She ignored me and went about her cleaning. Drowsiness seemed to seep into my bones with the soup, so I sighed and said, “Goodnight, Alasie. Please tell Big Jim his soup was delicious.”
She didn’t reply.
“Mr. Yeti does not wear clothes. You’d think he’d be cold, yeti isn’t.”
—ELONI, MAKING A JOKE BEFORE WE LEFT
The next morning Professor Murphy picked us up at the inn, along with some locals he’d hired to be our guides, including the silent yeti girl, Alasie.
Mez and I should have given ourselves extra time to get ready, because we didn’t realize how long it would take to put on all the layers of clothing. Over our tight-fitting thermals we both wore long-sleeved shirts, a fleece, another fleece, and then finished up with our waterproof jackets. Same for our lower half: thermal pants, followed by a fleece layer and a waterproof layer. We had gloves and hand warmers and mittens, layers of socks, and a face-covering balaclava to wear under our beanies.
We packed up our backpacks with everything we’d need according to the list that Professor Murphy had given us: MREs (Meals Ready to Eat), binoculars, goggles, sunglasses, extra batteries for our heated gloves, and, of course, the flare pens that shot the variety of protection devices. Once ready, we headed downstairs.
Professor Murphy was waiting in the van with the local guides. He frowned at us, looking at his watch to indicate that we were late. Then we drove out to the crater, taking the road that led back toward the airport, but turning away from the bay just as we exited town. The road looked like it had been heavily traveled. After a short drive through some small hills it ended at a camp of tan tent-cabins nestled in a group within a fenced-off area. A line of snowmobiles waited just outside the fence.
As we walked into camp, Professor Murphy pulled the face opening of his balaclava down to expose his mouth so he could talk. When I did the same, my nostrils froze shut. It was c-c-cold.
“That fence is electric, to keep predators out,” Professor Murphy said. “Don’t touch it.”
Meztli touched it. He pulled his gloved hand away with a shake and a pained look on his face.
Everyone stood in an open space in the middle of the cabins, a big group of sky blue jackets with fur-edged hoods and covered faces, along with the local guides clad in animal skins or snow parkas, carrying bows.
“Let’s get to work,” Professor Murphy said, stepping into the center of the group. “As you all know, Dr. Pravus has sent a team here, which tells me that we must be close to finding something. We haven’t come across a Pravus team at any other site.
“We have to move fast. We can’t let them find something before we do. And so, I’ve decided to split us up into teams. Each team will have a local guide and be assigned to search a specific section of the crater rim.
“Do not go into the crater. The floor of the crater was the site of a major mining operation that spanned many years. It’s been picked clean. However, given the size of the animals here, there must be deposits of the mineral that were forced out by the impact of the meteorite. We’ll be able to find these deposits with our detectors.” He held up one of the devices, which looked like something Tootles used to check the water content of the soil: a long metal prong coming out of a square box that displayed a reading with a needle moving along a dial.
“Meteorite fragments can be propelled as far as five miles from the impact site,” Professor Murphy went on. “So we’re going to be working from the rim outward.
“You know what to do: Dig through the snow to the permafrost beneath. Push the tip of the sudithium detector into the ground. Record your readings. Be methodical. Be persistent. We’ll meet back here before dusk to share our findings.”
He split us up into four teams: Rufus, Jud, and Pantha (a shape-shifter) were taking the far eastern section of the crater. Lapso, Ethan (ogre-man), and Sethi (shape-shifter) took the north. Frankie, Vinch (ogre-man), and Trinka (imp) took the south. He gave each team a sudithium detector and a notebook to record our findings.
“You and Meztli get the west,” he said, handing us a map. “Everyone please be respectful of the dangers here. The locals have learned to coexist with the dangerous creatures. They don’t need to take defensive measures, but in an emergency, they are expert marksmen with their bows, and they’ve developed a drug that will put these giant creatures to sleep within seconds. Darthin and I will continue to try and get information from the locals. Good luck.”
I could only see Darthin’s eyes through his layers of warm clothing, but that’s all I needed to see. He was scared. I went over to him and whispered, “You’ll be fine. You can do this.”
He nodded.
We were all about to head off on our assignments when one of the guides whistled at us and held up a hand. He pointed at a spot just beyond the fence. There, hopping past a small hill, was a polar hare. It was very well camouflaged in the snow, being completely white except for little black spots on its ears. It was larger than a regular rabbit and had shorter ears and a thicker, fluffier body.
“Aww,” I said. “It’s so cute.”
“It’s big for a rabbit,” Frankie said. “But I wouldn’t call it ‘giant.’”
“That’s not the giant hare, you idiots,” Darthin said. “The giant hare is behind it.”
“Where? All I see is that hill,” I said.
Oh.
The hill twitched. Then it grew, and grew, and grew as the giant polar hare rose up on its hind legs. Its front legs looked thin compare
d to its fluffy, elephant-sized body.
It plopped down with a thump. Professor Murphy, who didn’t have time for delays, shot off a bunny hopper in its face, and it jerked away. One of the guides hissed at Professor Murphy, shaking his head.
“So cute,” I said.
“Sí,” Meztli agreed.
“You wouldn’t say that if five of them were charging at you,” Darthin said, “trying to trip you with their paws.”
Professor Murphy and Darthin left in the van while the others took off on snowmobiles. Mez and I waited for our guide, Alasie, who was checking her gear. We watched the giant hare follow Professor Murphy’s van. As the van accelerated, the hare hopped forward to match its speed. With a quick jab, it reached out a paw and knocked the van on its side. Professor Murphy crawled out the window, bunny hopper in hand, ready to fire.
Mez was laughing hysterically, and I had to clamp my mouth shut when Professor Murphy and Darthin walked back to camp. They took the snowmobile Mez and I were going to use. They sped off, but the giant hare was waiting for them, and took another swipe as they raced by. Professor Murphy dodged it and continued on.
Mez and I had to walk to our searching zone with our guide, Alasie, who followed us sullenly. This wasn’t a big deal, because our spot turned out to be only a hundred feet away. I checked my instructions, because I was sure this was a mistake, but it wasn’t.
Alasie didn’t seem too happy with her assignment. That made two of us. This was ridiculous! We’d just been assigned to look for a rare and valuable mineral in the most traveled-on spot in the area.
I walked over to the edge of the crater, which was not very deep for a crater, maybe just twenty feet from the edge to the bottom. The drop was gradual and bumpy, with snow-covered rocks. Plant life was beginning to poke through the snow on the ridges, and I saw another giant hare nibbling on something farther away.
I watched the other Critchlore teams on their snowmobiles, getting smaller and smaller as they ventured into the unknown on their quest. I felt like I’d been left behind in the parking lot.
Alasie sat on a small hill and watched us work, her white fur blending in with the snow so that if I looked away and then back, it took me a moment to find her. Mez and I dug into the icy ground just outside the crater’s rim and plunged the tip of the sudithium detector into the ground below, but the needle didn’t move.
It was pretty dull work, I have to say. Dig, jab, record the reading, repeat. I dug and jabbed. Meztli recorded the zeroes. After a while I noticed him fill the whole page with zeroes and then throw the notebook to the ground.
“Mez, I haven’t given you those readings yet,” I said.
He shrugged. “They are going to be zeroes.” Then he tilted his head at the yeti girl, who was facing away from us. “She can speak,” he said. “I heard her talking to another yeti at camp.”
“Her name’s Alasie,” I said. “And she’s not going to speak to us, thanks to Rufus. He got her in trouble on their last trip here. I think she’s here for punishment.”
“I bet I can get her to talk.” Mez wiggled his eyebrows beneath his goggles.
I shook my head and kept stabbing the snow, hoping to find some trace of sudithium. Mez focused on the more interesting challenge of getting Alasie to talk, but no matter how hard he tried, she wouldn’t say anything. She never even acknowledged that she heard him.
At lunch I offered her some of my food, but she shook her head and stayed on the hill, away from both of us.
“Nice try,” he said, “but I will win.”
“Win what?”
“The contest to see who can make her talk. You, Mr. Nice Guy, or me.”
“You should be so competitive in finding sudithium,” I said.
“Ha! There’s nothing here,” he said, and I had to agree with him. What chance was there that we’d find anything in this spot that was so close to camp? None.
We looked over at Alasie. She had turned her focus to the bay. I climbed up the hill until I could see what held her attention. She was watching a group of kids zipping across the snow on skis as they held onto kites that looked like colorful parachute wedges against the blue sky. Some of the kids were dressed in ski parkas, but a few were white-furred yeti. When I looked at her, I could tell she’d rather be out there with her friends.
“You should go,” I said to her. “I’m sure there’s no danger this close to the campsite. We have our bear bangers and stuff.”
She scowled and shook her head.
“Maybe she can’t ski,” Mez said, winking at me. “Maybe it is too difícil for her.”
She screeched at him.
Mez laughed.
“Screeching doesn’t count,” I told him as I got back to work. “You haven’t won yet.”
After lunch a Pravus team rode by on snowmobiles. At the front of the group was that obnoxious kid, Victus. I could tell it was him by the arrogant way he drove his snowmobile. He stopped, lifted his goggles, and stared at us, taking in our little base of operations.
“Are you kidding me?” he said, shaking his head. “Oh, man, what a bunch of losers.”
They rode off laughing.
‡‡‡
Our guides returned to the village while we ate dinner at camp, which was an MRE and a thermos of hot chocolate that stayed hot for about three seconds. We sat on folding chairs as the sun began its descent, and Professor Murphy asked about our findings.
“Rufus?” he asked.
“I got some blips on my detector,” he said. “But nothing solid.”
“Great start,” Professor Murphy said. “This is exciting! If only we’d had these sudithium detectors last time. How about you Lapso?”
“Same. A few blips. We’ll dig deeper tomorrow.”
“Excellent. Frankie?”
“Nothing.”
“Well, keep trying,” Professor Murphy said. “Darthin, did you find out anything from the local children?”
“I talked to them!” Darthin said, as if this was the achievement that Professor Murphy had been waiting to hear. “I wore traditional clothing and greeted them the traditional yeti way, by scooping up some snow and rubbing it in on their cheeks.”
Professor Murphy made a “Get on with it” motion with his hands.
“Um . . . well . . . I found out why they hate visitors,” Darthin said. “They’re afraid we’ll do something that will bring ‘Him’ back. Or wake ‘Him’ up. I’m not sure which, but they are very afraid of this ‘Him.’ It might be the creature who destroyed the town two years ago.”
“How does this relate to sudithium?” Professor Murphy asked.
“I don’t know,” Darthin admitted. “I did ask a few kids why the animals are so large here, and they all gave me the same answer: a shrug and something about radiation. But we know that’s a lie. There are no detectable traces of radiation here.”
“Let’s stay focused going forward, okay?”
Darthin nodded. I gave him a thumbs-up and mouthed, “Good job,” because on the first trip, he had been too scared to talk to anyone. This was a huge accomplishment for him.
I waited for Professor Murphy to ask me if I’d discovered anything, but he didn’t. I shouldn’t have been surprised that his expectations of me were zero, but it still stung.
“Did you guys notice the Pravus teams watching you?” I asked.
“Yeah, they’re watching us,” Rufus said. “Not even trying to be sneaky about it, either.”
“Good point, Rufus,” Professor Murphy said. “When we do find some sudithium, we should expect the Pravus team to try and prevent us from taking it back to school. We have to be ready with an escape plan or two. Perhaps a diversion of some sort. I’ll think of something. You all continue searching.”
There wasn’t a cabin for Mez and me at camp, so we hurried toward our snowmobile as soon as Professor Murphy was done. “Stay inside at dusk and dawn,” our rules had said. The sun had just gone into hiding, and we needed to follow its example and get ba
ck to town.
The snowmobile’s engine was as loud as fireworks in the stillness, a blaring announcement that rulebreakers were approaching. Mez drove while I checked behind us for hares. He had to dodge quite a few yetis that appeared out of nowhere, walking around like slow-moving mummies. They growled and swung their big, hairy arms at us.
“Very creepy, those yetis,” Mez said when we got to the inn.
We went inside and were greeted by Alasie screeching at us. It wasn’t as ear-aching as Pismo’s screech, but close. Mez ran upstairs while I apologized for being out at dusk. She shook her head and pointed at the trail of drippy footprints we’d trailed in. I guess we were supposed to remove our boots at the door. Whoops.
In Riggen, there are three sets of laws: one for the general population, one for minorities, and one for the rich. Riggen’s EO, Fraze Coldheart, can do whatever he wants.
—TRUE FACT
The next day Alasie and I waited outside by the snowmobile. At last, Mez came down to join us, wearing an orange vest over his parka—one of those safety vests with reflector tape that construction workers use. Where he got it, I had no idea. Alasie hissed when she saw him.
“What? You don’t like my vest?” he asked.
She shook her head and made motions for him to take it off.
“I’m sorry, are you trying to say something?” he asked innocently. “Por favor, use words, so I can understand.” He looked at me for help.
“Mez, come on,” I said. “Take it off.”
“Why? Orange is my favorite color. Unless there is some reason? No?” When Alasie didn’t answer, he shrugged. “Here I go. I’ll jog this morning.”
He took off. Alasie shook her head, then readied her bow and arrow.
“What can happen to him?” I asked.
She pointed to a spot on the ice near the cliffs. There, just in front of a long corrugated-metal building was a giant orange circle. It took me a second to realize that it must be the spot where they left food for the giant gyrfalcon Darthin had warned us about.
Mez passed a row of houses and reached the open space outside of town. Alasie gunned the snowmobile, and we followed. I held on with one hand and pulled out my falcon flare with the other, just in case.