Bounders (30 page)

“I guess this is just reality, Lucy,” I say. “Gunner ships, occludium shields . . . Welcome to the world beyond the secrets.”

“Maybe the secrets weren't so bad after all,” she says.

“Listen up, Scaredy-Cats,” Marco says. “Things are the way they are, okay? And while you guys are busy debating what we do or don't know, I'm looking at that.” He points out the window.

The Paleo Planet is now on clear display. Cobalt blue oceans merge into lush land formations. Swirls of white are dissected by peeks of mountain ranges. Bits of brown and black and silver blend into the vibrant hues.

“It's incredible,” I say, “it looks just like the old pictures of Earth.”

“Yeah,” Marco says. “Earth with a lot more green.”

The ship shakes as we enter the atmosphere. When we fall below the cloud line, the landscape comes into view.

Mira takes my hand. She stares out the window, smiling.

“It's so gorgeous,” Lucy whispers.

High mountains rise at near ninety-degree angles from the land, and waterfalls a kilometer high cascade off cliffs. Trees the size of skyscrapers burst with a thousand colors of flowers. Wide lakes with lines of whitecaps stretch between the peaks like an open mouth between jagged rows of teeth. We clear the range, and a vast valley spreads beneath us. As we descend, someone yells, “Look! Animals!”

Sure enough, a herd of wildeboars grazes in the valley. Cole points toward the range. Hairy beasts that look like woolly mammoths munch leaves at the tree line.

“Those things are huge,” Marco says. “I wouldn't want to get in their way.”

The ship flies low over the grass and flushes up a flock of fuchsia birds. There are thousands of them, tens of thousands. They lift off the plain and break into an intricate formation to avoid our craft, then merge together again on the other side.

A lone saber cat chases the flock. He dashes after the birds at blinding speed. When he reaches a wide brook, he leaps and splays his legs to the side, gliding across the gap on his furred flaps of skin.

“A winged cat!” Lucy says. “I never thought we'd actually see one!”

Florine emerges from somewhere and morphs into a tour guide. She names the animals and plants we pass and points out landmarks. “And over this next range we'll see the mines.”

We clear the line of spiky peaks and dive back down. At the edge of the range, a cluster of metal buildings hugs the ground. They are wide and flat with odd angled sides. From above, they look like honeycomb.

The buildings surround a stretch of pavement buzzing with Tunnelers. Metal tubes lead from the pavement into the ground, heading in the direction of the range. Every few moments a strange treaded vehicle, the shape of an egg, emerges from one of the tunnels. The exiting vehicles steer to a conveyer belt that lifts the egg from its treads, cracks it open, and empties its contents onto the belt. The egg is returned to its treads, and a Tunneler pilots the empty egg to an inbound tube.

Our craft sets down on a landing strip adjacent to the mining operations. Dozens of Tunnelers line up to greet us. They're all bunched together, hairy and stooped. Six weeks ago I'd never seen a single Tunneler, and here I am staring at fifty of them.

“It's strange, right?” Lucy says. “Cool, but strange.”

“There's just so many of them,” I say.

“This must be what it feels like to be an Earthling on their planet,” she says. “We're the ones who don't fit.”

“They don't fit here either,” Cole says. “This isn't their planet. We brought them here to mine, remember?”

Marco laughs. “Are we going to talk? Or are we going to explore? Let's go.” He leads the way as we push to the front of the boarding ramp.

As soon as I step off the craft, I'm blinded. I have to squint just to see where to put my feet. The star that warms the Paleo Planet's system is both closer and weaker than Earth's sun. It creates basically the same conditions for life, but it's a bit brighter. The Tunnelers must hate it. Even Earth is too bright for them.

At the end of the boarding ramp, two Tunnelers hand out sunglasses from large bins.

Kleek. Kleek. Argakreek.

“For your comfort and protection.”

They repeat it over and over, resulting in a hysterical mash-up of grunts and mechanical voice-overs.

Marco slips on the glasses and stoops over. “For your comfort and protection,” he says in a robotic voice.

Lucy slaps him. “Cut it out. I thought you were more sensitive.”

“Come on!” he says. “It's funny.”

I'll tell you what's funny—how ridiculous we look in the glasses. They were obviously not made for kids. They look like giant bug eyes, particularly on Cole and Lucy. They're only partially shaded, so you can still see our eyes.

“Looking good,” I say to Cole.

“They're not for fashion, Jasper. They're protective eyewear.”

“Right,” I say. “Comfort and protection.”

“Please,” Lucy says. “Let's go.”

We join the rest of the group and head for the center of the pavement, where the largest crowd of Tunnelers is gathered.

“Welcome, visitors,” one of the Tunnelers says through his translator box when we're all assembled. “My name is Norideek, and I am Chief Engineer of Earth Force Industries Occludium Mines at Paleo Planet. We have a very special tour planned for you. But first let us show you around the mines. Please break into small groups and proceed with one of our fine guides.” He gestures to a row of Tunnelers standing behind him.

We match up with our pod leaders—it's weird to see Waters outside the space station—and then meet our tour guides. Our Tunneler guide introduces herself as Charkeera and leads us to the egg-cracking conveyer belt I saw from the craft.

Arrrgh. Arrrgh. Awwwk. Kleek.

“Most Earthlings don't know this,” she says, “but occludium stays in liquid form throughout the mining process. These specially designed transport vehicles keep the occludium at the ideal temperature and allow it to flow feely in the rounded container until it's processed for transport.”

The egg-shaped vehicles are sleek and seamless. I can't even spot the hinge where they separate to unload until the crane lifts and tips one of the eggs. The coolest thing about them, though, is the steering compartment in front. There's only enough room for the Tunneler driver. In other words, they're kid-size. Not many grown-ups would fit inside an eggmobile.

“Any chance we can take one for a spin?” Marco asks, taking a step toward a vacant transport.

“Did you bring your driver's license?” Charkeera asks.

“Ummm . . . ,” Marco says.

Klarrr. Klarrr. Klarrr.

“Ha! Ha! Ha!”

Tunneler, one. Marco, zero.

“These transports are for mining purposes only,” Charkeera continues. “They require special training.”

Waters inserts himself between Marco and the egg. He knows Marco's impulsive streak all too well.

Charkeera keeps talking about the mining process, the tunnel systems, and the shipping of occludium off the planet, but I'm barely listening. I tip my head and warm my cheeks. I don't stare directly at the star, but I peek at its corners, mesmerized by the enormous disk in the sky, three times as large to the eye as our Earth sun. It bathes the Paleo Planet in golden light.

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 after
noooon
,” 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.”

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.