Jeremy turns around, his forehead scrunched up. “It’s just Brett.”
“Don’t patronize me Jeremy. It’s my legs that don’t work, not my brain. I know who she is. She’s the one stupid enough to forget about your girlfriend. Her oversight killed Jennifer and landed me here.” Andi snatches a plate off of the food tray next to her bed and flings it at me. “How dare you even sow your face here? I want nothing to do with you!”
“You don’t mean that,” Jeremy says as he laces his hand in Andi’s.
She tries to pull free. “Yes I do!” Her head thrashes back and forth as she attempts to break Jeremy’s firm grasp.
“Don’t worry I’m leaving.” I say before Andi hurts herself.
Just outside Andi’s room, I lean against the wall and listen as Jeremy does his best to calm her down. I know Andi’s reaction is a manifestation of her grief, but I can’t help but feel that there’s some truth behind her words. When I’m certain Andi’s calm, I begin to walk the hospital corridors. As of last night the injured rat was still dragging its limp hindquarters around. I can’t bring myself to return to the field lab and confirm his condition is unchanged.
“Brett, I’m sorry about Andi and everything else that happened.”
I look up to see Chad standing in front of me.
Talk about bad timing
. “Unless you know something that can help Andi, I have nothing to say to you.” I snap.
Chad visibly cringes, but then says, “I might be able to help.”
“How?” I narrow my eyes and wait for some inadequate offer of comfort. I still haven’t forgiven him and it would feel so good to chew someone out right now.
“You’re quarantine test showed both you and Ryan had the neurological activity of a three-year-old.”
“How does insulting me help Andi?” I growl.
“Sorry. I assumed as a botanist you understood human brain development.” The words sound condescending, but his tone is apologetic.
I’m not in the mood to give anyone the benefit of the doubt, but I’m curious enough to refrain from screaming at him. “No. It wasn’t included in my cryogenic knowledge and it still sounds like your insulting me.
“I’m not. A three-year-old’s brain is twice as active as an adult’s brain. Synaptic pruning thins out the weaker and unused connections as we age.”
“Can’t the brain form new connections?” I ask, suddenly hopeful he has an idea that can help cure Andi.
Chad shakes his head. “No. Not like what was in your test results. I think whatever brightened your coloring affected your neurological capabilities. It’s a long shot, but it could help Andi. That’s assuming we can figure out what caused it.”
Bile hits the back of my throat. Is he seriously using Andi to get to the opal berries? No, the chairman, his pods, and his bugs have me paranoid. Chad wouldn’t do that. Then again, I never thought he’d testify that I was a nut job either.
I take a deep breath and attempt to separate my thoughts from my emotions. “Can I see the test results? They might help me figure out what caused the reaction.”
“I’ll see what I can do. I only saw them by chance during your quarantine. Kevin doesn’t like to share. He keeps all the results password protected on his computer.”
I guess I’m not the only paranoid one. “Just let me know if and when you get them.”
“Brett, I really am sorry about everything,” Chad calls after me as I hurry to the filed lab.
I don’t need the test result to know the opal berries caused the strange changes in Ryan and me. Ryan agrees with me, but he wants to wait until spring to look for the berries. He’s convinced it’s too late in the season to find any and doesn’t want to risk us getting in trouble over a wild goose chase. He probably right, but eventually I wear down his resolve and he agrees to a one day field visit to look for the berries.
It’s ridiculously easy to fool the ID scanners. Just like with the zoo escape, we use a small rock to keep the exit doors from closing all the way. We scan ourselves back into the field lab and the base, and then re-exit without having to scan our palms. If anyone checks the scanning records, it will look like we spent the day on the base.
We know the closet berries to the south are three days away, so when we reach the river we head north, into unexplored terrain. We’re far away from the base when we find a side stream. I see specks of marble white rock in the stream bed and break into a run. I’m convinced we’ve found the berries; I’ve never seen the marble without the berries. The moment I enter the clearing I know I’m right, but my heart sinks. The stems and leaves of the plant are as green as they were mid-summer, but brown shriveled flesh hangs where the berries should be. It’s too late in the season, the early morning frosts have destroyed what remained of the berries.
“We knew it was a long shot, but we’ll still be able to gather the berries in the spring.” Ryan says, attempting to comfort me.
“That’s only if they ripen in the spring. Who knows what kind of effect they’ll have unripened. For all we know they’re poisonous unripened.” I complain.
“Then we’ll wait until they ripen.” Ryan answers.
I know Ryan’s right, but his logical answers don’t make me feel any better. The berries might not fully ripen until the summer. I can’t leave Andi stuck in a wheelchair that long with no hope of recovering, but I can’t tell her about the berries either. If I tell her about the berries and they don’t work, it would crush her. I head back in to the base resolved to keep quiet about the berries and allow Andi to be as mad as she wants at me – if that’s what she needs to deal with her grief, I’ll endure it.
The problem is I’m not enough for Andi’s anger. Over the next few weeks, she finds reasons to banish all of her friends from her sight. Soon Jeremy is the only one she’ll willingly allow into her room.
I hate sitting helplessly by while my friend is consumed by anger and depression. I can’t wait until the spring, so I seek out Jeremy’s help. He’s not in Andi’s room; the nurses kicked him out to get some rest, but I doubt that’s what he’s doing. I find him in his lab, tinkering with Andi’s robot, by smashing it with its own arm. Andi’s not the only one who’s hurting. I remain by the door and wait. Once Jeremy has exhausted himself, I loudly slam the door open to make it seem like I just arrived. Jeremy wipes his eyes with his sleeve before he turns around.
“Hi Brett, I didn’t expect you.” Jeremy smiles warmly, but he can’t hide his puffy red eyes or the deep set circles under them.
“I know.” I walk over and wrap my arms around him.
His body goes rigid, but soon he sinks into my hug and sobs. “She’s worse. I don’t know what to do. She doesn’t want to eat, she barely sleeps, and now I can hardly get her to look at me let alone talk to me.”
“I may have a solution, but I’ll need your help.”
He responds with a relieved whimper. “Whatever you need, just tell me.”
I tell Jeremy everything I know and suspect about the opal berries. I explain the berries are out of season, but that I hope to find them further south, where Caper migrated to.
Jeremy starts moving around the lab, as if he’s searching for something. With his back still to me he says, “Meet me here tomorrow morning. I think I can help with your transportation issue.”
I head back to the field lab and inform Ryan that I have transportation and I’m going to locate Caper and the opal berries.
To my surprise Ryan doesn’t try to talk me out of it, but instead says, “Locating Caper shouldn’t be an issue.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, suspicious.
“I put a tracker in Caper,” he admits.
“You did what?!”
Ryan pins my hands and pulls me to his chest. “Be mad at me if you want, but I knew you’d never do it. You wouldn’t risk breaking his trust. After he started scaring people on the base, I thought it was necessary. So, I inserted one. I used a satellite-linked tracker so now it’ll lead us right to Caper and the opal berries.”
“I’m still mad at you for going behind my back,” I grumble, “but for Andi’s sake, I’m glad you did.”
We meet Jeremy at his lab only to have him lead us to a warehouse boardering the airfield. Inside the building’s storage bay is a small silver plane.
I struggled to keep my fear at bay as I examine the long sleek plane. I run my hand along the long tapered tail made of the same light metal as Andi’s igloo. The plane is more wings than body and I doubt Ryan and I can both fit in the small oval cockpit.
“Can it fly?” Ryan asks.
“It will, but we never got a chance to test it. We built it in secret, hoping to search for the two of you, but then you returned on your own.”
“It’s probably better that you didn’t test it, small engine planes aren’t known for being quiet. The moment you start it up, every soldier on the airfield would have heard.” Ryan runs a hand along a propeller blade.
“It’s actually a motorized glider.” Jeremy points to a large metal box behind the plane. “We planned on a winch launch. The building will mute the noise of the winch and the extra long cable will ensure you’re airborne well before you near the building. Out in the field you can use the propellers to take off.”
Acid bubbles and churns in my stomach. Hurling an untested plane towards a warehouse is more than I bargained for. Ryan and I might wind up little red smears on the pavement. I want to help Andi, but this plan is too reckless, even for me. Maybe waiting until spring is our best option.
“I need to think about this,” I say.
A look of panic creeps into Jeremy’s eyes. “I know is sounds scary, but our plans were based on existing motor gliders and winch launching. The technology is nothing new.” I shake my head at the plane and Jeremy adds, “I’ll take it myself if you need me to, but then they’ll be no one to look after Andi. She still won’t let anyone else near her, and what would she think if I suddenly stopped visiting her?”
“I can do the flying.” Ryan offers.
“Great! I’ll tell my field manager I want to design a solar plane and need pilot training, but you can sleep in my pod instead.” Jeremy replies, sidestepping between me and Ryan as if it will prevent me from voicing my concerns. I hear the mix of desperation and hope in Jeremy’s voice and know there’s no way I can back out.
Chapter 24
Frost still clings to the pavement when Ryan and I roll the plane onto the airfield. Jeremy remains in the warehouse prepping the winch. I harness my parachute on and hand the other to Ryan. Then we both strap ourselves into the plane. The moment Ryan clamps the cockpit lid shut I feel claustrophobic. I concentrate on taking slow even breaths and curl my hand around my father’s ring that still hangs on my necklace.
“Ready.” Ryan calls into the radio. I watch the cable slowly snake taunt and disappear under the plane’s nose. Then we lurch forward. The plane rapidly gains speed, pressing me against my seat. I close my eyes and dig my nails into my seat praying not to die. My stomach drops and I know we’re airborne, but I don’t relax or open my eyes until we stop climbing and Ryan evens out the plane.
I see the dining halls and recreation halls below us. They look the size of lego blocks, but it’s not as scary as I feared it would be. It’s actually pretty amazing viewing the base and its distinct grid pattern from above. I gain a new appreciation of just how large married housing has grown. Originally the houses numbered in the hundreds, now I’d estimate the number is over one thousand.
We follow the construction road toward the sea. Only the skeletons of trees line the road. The varying silver and blue hues of the barks are interesting but if it were any other season the view would be spectacular. Of course if it were any other season we’d already have the berries.
My stomach clenches when Ryan suddenly slows the plain. While Ryan received his training from Jeremy’s pod, I read all the information I could find on gliding. I know he’s just dolphining, slowing down to gain altitude while crossing a thermal lift, but I can’t shake the fear that we’ll slow down too much and crash. The engine and the propellers kick on causing me to jump. Winter’s the worst season for thermal lifts and the reason why we’re heading towards the sea –we need a convergence zone. Right where the colder sea air converges with the warmer land air a narrow band of soarable lift can form. If we can find the convergence zone we can potentially follow it the entire way down the coastline without ever using the propellers and precious fuel to maintain altitude.
The trees thin and then disappear, replaced by grassy plains. I smell the salt in the air a moment before Ryan banks right and cuts the propellers. I feel the plane lift and know Ryan found what he needed.
I glance to the left and see a rocky beach followed by the deep blue ocean that expands as far as my eyes can see. It brings back memories of my home back on earth, collecting shells, hermit crabs and whatever else I could find in the tide pools. I blink back bittersweet tears and stare out the other side of the plane. The grass, rocky cliff, and forests we pass are foreign enough to keep my thoughts in the present.
Against the odds our plan is working. We’ve made it off the base without crashing or getting shot down, and hopefully without detection. If Jake and Molly successfully cover for us, no one will ever know we’ve left the base. But I’m getting ahead of myself, we still need to get far enough south, safely land, and find the berries.
The minutes drag on into hours. The sun is now high in the sky, but the terrain remains the same barren view. I’m not hungry, but I pass Ryan a sandwich and eat one as well. We haven’t had to use the propellers since arriving at the coast, but gliding isn’t nearly as fast as a regular plane would be. As the sun sinks lower, I worry that we’ll run out of sun before we get far enough south.
Purple and pink streaks decorate the sky by the time we get our first glimpse of green grass. Not too long after we see heavily leaved trees and blossoming flowers. Ryan continues flying south until we find a river that corresponds with Caper’s latitude. Then he engages the propellers and continues upstream until we site a berry patch. Circling wider and wider we hunt for a suitable landing site and find a large grassy field only a few miles away.