Cool damp air rolls off the range that looms over the mines. The peaks are high and steep. You could fall right off if you weren’t careful. Once the monster sun crosses the horizon, the entire mine will be swallowed in the shadow of the mountain.
After being cooped up at the space station, everything seems so fresh. I inhale the scent of flowers and loam and . . . something metallic?
“What’s that odd smell?” I whisper to Cole.
“The occludium,” Cole says.
Charkeera must have heard us, because she shuffles in our direction and grunts. “The occludium has a much stronger odor here at the mining site where we’re scraping the ore, but it will retain a faint metallic smell even when processed.”
Cole asks follow-up questions about mining technique and ore composition I don’t begin to understand. From the confused look on Marco’s face, neither does he.
After a few more questions, mostly from Cole, Charkeera leads us to our next stop. When we’ve finished our tour of the mines, we head back to the landing strip, where most of the other Bounders are already waiting. A line of open-air hovercrafts is stationed at the far end of the strip. Tunnelers are hustling from a nearby building carrying bags and rolling barrels to load onto the hovers.
“I see they’ve packed lunch,” Waters says.
“What’s in the barrels?” Lucy asks.
“Pomagranana Punch,” Charkeera says. “It’s manufactured here on the planet from a native tree. They’re planning to sell it on Earth to generate buzz for planet tourism.”
“I’ve tried the punch,” Waters says. “Delicious. But don’t drink too much. It causes flatulence.”
“Flatulence?” I ask.
“Gas,” Cole says.
“Oh.” I laugh. “Well, then let’s slip Marco a second cup when he’s not looking.”
“Ha-ha, Jasper the Joker.” Marco nods at the hovers. “Those don’t look like punch.” Now the Tunnelers’ arms are loaded with metal machinery, and they have guns strapped across their backs.
“Indeed not.” Waters’s lips pinch in a weird blend of curiosity and concern.
A whiff of roses brings a two-second warning Florine is approaching.
“Good afternoooon,” she says in her signature, drag-out-the-vowel way. “Who is excited for the tour of the Paleo Planet? I know I am. This is the official kickoff of the tourism initiative. And because it’s such a special day, I’ll let you keep those ribbons in your hair, Lucy, dear. Just this once.”
“What a snoot,” Lucy whispers as Florine leaves to speak with an aeronaut. Once Florine started holding on to Lucy’s ribbons for safekeeping—and never returning them—Lucy’s fondness quickly evaporated. Of course, she still mines her for gossip.
“Why the cameras?” Marco asks. Tunnelers load video equipment and position a camera in front of the hovers.
“Oh my goodness!” Lucy shouts. “They’re filming for EFAN! We’re going to be on the webs!”
“Really?” So Florine got her wish. I knew I’d eventually make EFAN as part of Earth Force, but with the communication ban, not to mention all the top-secret info floating around, I figured Florine wouldn’t pull enough strings to make it happen during our tour.
Florine speaks with the Tunneler manning the camera and then steps to the front. At the cameraman’s signal, she flashes her teeth and spreads her arms wide. “Bounders, Tunnelers, esteemed officers of Earth Force, welcome to the Paleo Planet.” She waves her right hand in a flourish. “With great pleasure I invite you to board the hovercrafts as we prepare to commence our inaugural tour. Please, proceed this way.”
22
A TUNNELER WITH A TABLET STEPS forward and directs us to our assigned hovers—two pods per hover, plus two Tunnelers, one to drive and one to film. Charkeera is assigned as our driver. And, lucky us, we’re paired with Maximilian Sheek’s pod.
Our hover looks like a cross between a yacht and an old-fashioned school bus with its top cut off. We climb up and score spots at the bow. Ryan sits with Marco, Cole, and me. Lucy hangs back with Meggi and Annette. Mira positions herself at the very helm of the hover.
Sheek is dressed like he’s going to a movie premiere—black shirt, silver jacket, mirrored sunglasses, bouffant hair. I wonder if his windblown style will actually survive being windblown.
He boards last, of course. First he shakes hands with all the Tunnelers, making sure the camera is following his every move. Next he saunters over to the boarding steps, stops to pose with a hand on the bow, and then hoists himself up in a ridiculous yet graceful leap.
“Jon Waters,” Sheek says once aboard, staring down at our pod leader.
Waters nods. “Max.”
“It’s Sheek.”
Waters doesn’t respond, which leads to an uncomfortably long silence. Finally Charkeera revs the engine, and Sheek takes the cue to find a seat with his pod.
We pull away from the mining camp and glide across a flat plain. The grass is yellow-green with saffron shoots sticking up like husks of wheat. Giant crimson flowers flop in the draft of the hovercraft and pop back up when we pass, like they’re waving at us.
Even with the special sunglasses, the sky is bright, almost blinding. And the blue is endless. Without any buildings obstructing the view, it’s epic.
Mira perches at the front of the hovercraft. The wind pulls the hair from her braid and whips it around. Waters stands beside her. It’s his first trip to the Paleo Planet, too, and he looks like he’s having as much fun as the rest of us.
“Why haven’t you visited before, Boss?” Marco asks Waters.
He shrugs. “I haven’t had the time. Gedney and I rotate between the space station and our home labs on Earth. The Force’s focus with the Paleo Planet has been mining and tourism. My focus has been . . . elsewhere.”
Marco shoots me a knowing stare. Waters’s focus has been plotting how to defeat the green guys.
The hovers fly along the edge of the bordering range. I can’t believe how angular the landscape is. On one side, plains; on the other side, cliffs.
“Check it out!” Marco says.
Up ahead, the ground looks greener, and the shrubs grow higher. A waterfall plunges from a high peak.
Behind me, Meggi shrieks, “Birds!”
“On both sides!” Lucy says.
I spin around. Some of the fuchsia birds we saw from the ship chase the hovercraft. But they’re not alone. Soaring above them are enormous orange things covered in fur with large leathery wings.
“Are those birds, too?” I ask.
“Those are kite bats,” Charkeera says, “native to the planet, obviously. They roost in the pomagranana trees.”
Soon the kite bats overtake the hover. They dive low, and we duck. Meggi screams, then Lucy screams, then pretty soon we’re all screaming.
“Stay calm,” Charkeera says. “They won’t attack. They’re just getting a closer look.”
“Easy for her to say,” I whisper to Cole. “She’s all fur, too. Who knows if they’ll be so friendly to a bunch of humans?”
One of the bats swoops close, and Marco strokes its belly. The bat screeches and soars straight into the air.
“What the heck?” I say. “Are you trying to provoke it?”
“I couldn’t help myself,” he says. “And by the way, it felt like puppy fur.”
“Marco!” Waters says. “Keep your hands off the wildlife.”
“Yes, sir.”
“What did I tell you about calling me sir?”
“Sorry. I’ll try not to touch the wildlife again, Mr. Waters.”
Meanwhile, we’ve closed the gap to the waterfall. The water plummets from a peak higher than my apartment building and cascades to a deep, turquoise pool below. Next to the pool is a vast grove of trees bursting with plump purple fruit and lavender flowers. The trees don’t have trunks—just a huge mass of branches that sprout from the ground. They look like the prickly disco lights in our pod room.
The hovers pull to a st
op about a hundred meters from the trees. The kite bats soar past us and into the grove.
“We’ll be picnicking here,” Charkeera says. “Follow your fellow Earthlings over to that clearing next to the pomagranana grove.”
I hop off the hover after Cole and Marco, and then help Mira down behind me. As we make our way to the clearing, kissing noises smack from behind. Geez. Regis can’t even give it a rest today.
Marco looks at me and raises his eyebrows.
Ignore them, I mouth, taking Mira’s hand. So there, Regis. See how much I care.
Marco spins around, now walking backward toward the clearing. I should have known the silent treatment was not in his repertoire.
“Hey, Regis,” he says. “Do you have any idea what’s in those barrels?”
Back at the hovers, the Tunnelers are unloading the kegs of pomagranana juice.
“Is this a quiz?” Regis says. “Or are you just making conversation so you don’t have to talk with the king and queen of freaks?”
“It’s pomagranana juice,” Marco says. “Florine said it has an immediate effect on your muscles. It wears off, but it temporarily makes you twice as strong. How about we drink some and have an arm-wrestling match? Settle this beef with our pods once and for all?”
“I’m not settling anything with you losers.”
“Suit yourself.”
We stop and let Regis and his buddies pass us.
“That’s not true,” Cole says.
“Of course not,” Marco says. “But it’s true it gives you gas. So those clowns are in for a real surprise.”
“Yeah, and we’re in for a stinky ride back to the space station,” I say.
“Victory will never smell so good, or bad, if you know what I mean.”
We settle on blankets next to the pomagranana grove. The kite bats nest deep in the branches. The trees have that sweet, pungent smell berries get right before they rot. The fruit is bigger than my head, kind of like giant eggplants, but with spiky skin.
The Tunnelers pass out sandwiches, which are more like flat crackers spread with gray goop that looks gross but is actually delicious. It tastes earthy with hints of walnut and maple. Charkeera explains that the spread is made from groundnuts found on the planet. They also serve up carrots and cucumber slices grown in a hydroponic farm near the mines. Finally we each get a cup of pomagranana juice.
The juice is purple and smells kind of like raspberry lemonade.
“What are you waiting for, Ace?” Marco asks. “This stuff is delicious.”
I sip the juice. My mouth puckers at the extreme tartness. I’m not sure I can swallow. But the tartness is quickly replaced by sweetness, like sour candy with a red licorice aftertaste.
“Yum! Can we have seconds?”
“Careful, Jasper,” Lucy says. “Remember what Mr. Waters said.” She whispers to Meggi and Annette, presumably about the gas.
I wouldn’t want to stink everyone out on the way home. One cup is enough.
“It looks like someone didn’t get the memo.” Lucy points at Regis, Randall, and Hakim, who are sneaking refills from the pomagranana keg. The girls burst out laughing.
“You can thank me for that,” Marco says.
“Oh, Marco,” Lucy says, “always the prankster.”
Meggi turns almost as purple as the pomagrananas. Is she ever going to get over the tofu strings?
“Cadets!” Edgar Han crosses to the center of our group.
We all stand. “Yes, sir!”
“At ease,” he says, “no need for formality. You’ve worked hard this tour, and now it’s time for recreation. We thought it would be fun for you to try out your blast packs by flying around the waterfall.”
Ummm, yes please!
I throw on my pack and dash for the cliff. As I run, I slip on my gloves and unzip my grips. A squeeze of my hands, and I lift off.
“Jasper! Wait!” Cole shouts.
I ease up just a bit, letting him close in. A grin the size of a pomagranana stretches across his face. Instead of stopping, he flies right past.
“Beat you!” he shouts.
No fair! I chase Cole. We fly close to the waterfall, and the spray spritzes my face.
Cole shoots straight up, tracking the trajectory of the falls. “This way!” He crosses in front and ducks out of sight.
I follow him to the other side, but he’s nowhere to be seen. Did he fall? I squeeze the grips and bring my body to a standstill in the air. As my legs sway, I scan the ground beneath me for Cole.
“Over here!”
I crane my neck but still can’t see Cole. Wait a second. . . . Is that him . . . through the waterfall?
I fly forward and curve close to the cliff. Sure enough, Cole is sitting on a small ledge behind the waterfall. I coast in beside him. We have our own private hideaway behind the wall of water.
The light snakes through the falls, flickering in tiny rainbows on our skin. Every few seconds we catch a glimpse of another Bounder flying in front of the water or rising from the ground.
“I didn’t think it was possible,” Cole says, “but I actually managed to forget about the alien for a minute.”
“Me too, until you went and brought him up,” I say.
“Want to forget again?” Cole asks. “I’ll race you to the ground.”
We load back into the hovers, full from lunch, bloated with pomagranana juice, and exhausted from flying our blast packs. I stretch out, plop my feet on the bench in front of me, and take in the amazing sights of the Paleo Planet. This place will be the ultimate gold mine. They’ll pack them in by the thousands. Forget Disney World. They should build an amusement park here. Or a water park with a log ride off one of those awesome waterfalls. I can’t believe how lucky I am to come here first. The kids at home will be so jealous. Will Stevens will finally shut up.
That’s right, Will. I’m a B-wad. A B-wad who just blew by you in my blast pack.
Our hover leads the others across the vast landscape. Our cameraman pans his lens across the plains. At the controls behind me, Charkeera grunts and clicks. “We’re approaching a watering hole. You’ll see lots of native animals in this area. Over by the ridgeline, the wildeboars graze. We count their herd as more than a million strong. And don’t miss the mammoths. They’re slowly making their way to the water.”
A thin river snakes across the valley and widens into a basin. Animals are everywhere. Birds covered with a rainbow of feathers bathe and fish in the water. Small rodents with four pairs of legs pop out of holes near the bank. A saber cat limbers over. The other animals give him a wide berth as he bends to drink.
“This is unbelievable!” Ryan says. “Like an intergalactic safari!”
“No kidding,” I say. “Get a look at that cat!”
“He’s gorgeous,” Lucy says. “Check out his muscles. We better not get too close.”
“What on earth are those?” Marco asks.
A group of creatures walk in a cluster toward the watering hole. I can’t tell for sure, but from this distance they appear to be walking on two feet. I had no idea there were any bipedal animals on the Paleo Planet.
Charkeera makes a loud noise, a bark I’ve never heard before. She grunts and clicks into her com pin. Her translator box stays silent. She must have turned it off. The Tunneler manning the camera stands and shouts at Charkeera. Shouldn’t he be catching this on film?
Sheek pushes past us to the helm of the hover. He lifts a hand to his forehead to cut the glare. “And I thought it was a rumor!” he says. “You are in for a real treat, kids! We’ve encountered some humanoids!”
Humanoids? As in humanlike aliens? Is he serious? Did we even know there were humanoids on the Paleo Planet? Did I zone out during that part of the lecture? I lean over to Marco. “Did you know there were humanoids?”
Marco shakes his head. I’m about to ask Waters, but stop cold. Something about him makes me shudder. A gray curtain has fallen across his face, and deep lines crease his forehead.
<
br /> 23
THE HOVER SLOWS. CHARKEERA REACTIVATES HER translator. “We’ll stop here for a minute, then return to the base.”
“No, no, no,” Sheek says. “Bring us in closer. I am not going to miss this.”
Charkeera speaks privately into her com again. She shifts her weight from foot to foot, and the pitch of her voice rises with each grunt. If I had to guess, she seems nervous.
“Take us in for a better look,” Sheek says. “That’s an order.”
Charkeera grimly nods and eases the hover forward.
Up ahead, a cluster of humanoids approaches the riverbank. They wear hide bags slung across their chests for carrying water. Another group stands together, bending and straightening. They carry woven baskets on their backs.
“What are they doing?” Cole asks.
“Gathering food,” Charkeera says. “We believe ground nuts are a staple of their diets.”
“Like the ones we had for lunch?” Lucy asks.
Charkeera says yes, and then explains a bit about the humanoids. They used to see them a lot more on the planet, but now they keep to themselves. They live in caves deep in the mountain ranges. As she talks, she extracts her gun from a side storage compartment, straps it across her chest, and disengages the safety.
As our hovercrafts approach, some of the humanoids point at us. Many fall to their knees and drape their arms on the grass.
“What are they doing?” I ask.
“They’re bowing,” Waters says. His voice is low and laced with something furious. “They must think we’re gods.”
“Gods?” I gasp and burst out laughing.
Waters glares at me. His face is so clenched, he looks like he might explode. Or punch me in the nose.
I bite my lip to stop from laughing. A memory tickles the edge of my brain. Bo, the Tunneler who led our last lecture, said something similar. When Earth Force arrived in the skies over Gulaga, the Tunnelers all thought we were gods, too.
Our caravan glides forward and parks in a long line of hovers perpendicular to the watering hole.
“We can cover the rest of the ground on foot,” Sheek says.
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