by Bill Nye
“The birds warned us,” Alicia whispered. “We should have known.”
Hank shrugged. “I assumed that was a false positive.”
Alicia looked back to me for an explanation, but Alex silenced us. “I said quiet!” he growled.
We turned left around the wide base of a tree, moving off the trail we’d followed with Hank. The ground sloped down, then stretched out into a flat, soaked section of the forest scattered with enormous trees that looked like wooden columns in a giant, dark basement. Thin shafts of light filtered through the occasional breaks in the leafy roof. Green shoots stood up out of a dark pond. The water swirled briefly, then became still again. Roger was checking the map, leading the way. Ahead of me, Matt paused as Pepedro pointed to the canopy. A roaring, almost whining noise in the distance was growing louder fast.
“Is that a helicopter?” Matt said.
“Yes,” Alex said, “our friends are here.”
Roger folded the map. The canopy was too thick to see clearly, but the helicopter’s spinning blades pushed aside the leaves enough for us to catch a glimpse of two men leaning out on opposite landing skids. As the helicopter hovered, they leaped off, but they didn’t fall. Instead, they lowered gradually down through the tangled branches, each man hanging by a gleaming cable. One of them was small and thin, with curly bleached hair and a high forehead. He was maybe a decade older than Matt, and he smiled down at us, revealing a set of bright white teeth that belonged in a horse’s mouth. We recognized the other man immediately, and not just because he was still wearing purple lacrosse shorts. My piranha-catching fishing buddy was waving as he dropped to the jungle floor. He unhooked himself from the steel cable and stomped across the muddy ground.
Ava groaned. “Seriously?”
Matt scratched his head. “You called a helicopter?”
“You know this man?” Hank asked.
Bobby was grinning as he held out his hand. “You should know me, too, Dr. Witherspoon. It’s an honor to meet you again,” he said. “I heard you speak in Aspen.” He smirked at each of us. “Resourceful bunch of kids you’ve got here, Hank. What gave me away, Jack?”
“You knew we were from Brooklyn,” I said, “and you never asked our names.”
“Plus you were a really terrible captain and your accent wasn’t close to believable,” Ava added. “How did you even get that boat?”
Bobby tilted his head toward his fellow helicopter passenger. “So many details, so little time. First let me introduce you to my friend Joao here.”
The man with the bleached hair bowed, then shook hands with Roger and Alex, speaking quietly in Portuguese. He was as fit as a soccer player, and his eyebrows were way too perfect. I’m pretty sure he put gel in them.
“Obviously I was hoping you’d lead me straight to Hank,” Bobby continued. “But I managed to radio Joao. Luckily enough, he was already scheduled to come pick up Roger and Alex, so he grabbed me along the way.” Bobby shrugged and smirked again. “Now look at us. You may have ditched me briefly—twice, if you count that chauffeur I hired to drive you around—but you led me right to him.”
His words were like a punch to the stomach. I couldn’t even look at Hank. We’d flown down here to help him. And we’d ruined everything.
“What do you want?” Hank asked.
“Oh, I think you know,” Bobby answered. “If you’d just sold me your idea, we wouldn’t be having any of this trouble.”
Joao patted Roger on the shoulder. Then he shooed me out of the way and swept his hand across the top of a log, clearing some wet leaves. He sat down on his makeshift bench, unzipped his backpack, and removed a slim laptop. “Okay,” he said. “I’m ready.”
“Ready for what?” Alicia asked.
“Ready for the drive,” Joao said.
Bobby held out his hand. “You can hand it over nicely, Hank, or one of these men can take it from you.”
“Nicely is fine,” Hank said. He moved the fanny pack around to the front of his waist and began poking through the contents.
“Don’t give it to them,” Ava urged.
Alicia stood in front of Hank. “We’ll make a deal—”
“No deals,” Bobby snapped. “He missed that chance.”
The inventor was already holding out the drive, a square metallic device about the size of a stick of underarm deodorant. Bobby grabbed it out of his hands. “This is it?”
“You flip open the lid,” Hank explained, “and then hold that to the side of the laptop. It attaches magnetically.”
“Clever,” Bobby said.
Eyebrows raised, he opened the lid and handed the device to Joao. Our newest visitor inspected it briefly, then reached out and jabbed it against the side of Bobby’s leg. Instantly, my fishing buddy jumped and shook like an electrified cartoon character. He started hopping around, shaking his arms, crying in pain.
Calmly, Joao turned to Hank. “A Taser? Very clever. This would have wiped out my computer, yes?”
Hank shrugged. “Maybe?”
Alex reached out and grabbed the fanny pack from Hank, then passed it to Joao. “Next time,” Joao said, “I will use it on one of the children. Or you can tell me which of these little things”—he held out the open fanny pack—“is the drive.”
Hank pointed to a device slightly larger than my thumb. Carefully, Joao removed a cap and revealed a metallic square designed to plug into a computer. Joao said something in Portuguese and inserted the drive into the computer.
Still shaken, Bobby clenched his fists and breathed in deeply. Veins in his neck were bulging as he moved toward us.
Matt, Ava, and I all stepped back.
“Be calm, Bobby, be calm,” Joao said without looking up. “It was just a little shock.”
“Look for the battery designs first,” Bobby mumbled.
“There’s something you should know about the battery,” Hank began.
“Yeah, that it’s mine now,” Bobby said. He turned to Joao. “That’s our deal, right?”
The bluish light of the computer screen glowed on Joao’s face. “Sure, sure,” he muttered. “The battery is yours.”
“Wait,” Ava said, “then why do you want the drive?”
Joao lifted his hand and traced a circle in the air. “The trees,” he said. He squinted up toward the canopy, then pointed. “As I understand it, this drive allows me to control your satellite, too. Is that right, Hank?”
“No?”
I shook my head. Hank was a terrible liar, and Joao didn’t believe him for a second. “We can’t have you taking pictures of our work and preventing us from removing these beautiful trees,” Joao said. “The password, please.”
Ava tugged at Hank’s shirt. “Don’t give it to him.”
“Don’t listen to her,” Joao said. “It’s just a few trees. There are more important things to worry about.”
“These are not just trees!” Alicia shouted. “They’re a precious resource.”
“Give me the password and we can all go on with our lives.”
“And I’ll get my battery design,” Bobby added.
Joao flicked his fingers toward Bobby without looking. “Yes, yes, you’ll get your battery. I already told you that.”
“And if we don’t help you?” I asked.
The bleached-blond crook scowled. “There’s a small river near here. Roger and Alex here will make you swim with the piranhas until you talk.”
“Don’t do it, Hank,” Ava said. “We can’t let them win.”
“But I can’t let them hurt you,” Hank said. “This isn’t about winning or losing. It’s about not getting ourselves killed.”
Then he mumbled a phrase.
My sister swung toward him. “Are you serious? That’s your password? ‘Science rules’? I told you about password security, Hank! It can’t be that simple.”
“It’s all capital letters,” Hank added with a shrug. “And there’s an exclamation point at the end.”
“Plus, it’s true,” M
att said. Pepedro and Alicia stared at him. “What? Science does rule.”
Hank grinned.
Did they have to be nerds at a moment like this? Yes. The answer was always yes.
Without looking up, Joao said, “I’m in.” He squinted, clicked, ran his index finger along the screen. “This is it. This is definitely it. The designs are all here, too. Some very interesting stuff,” he added, looking up at Hank.
“What about the battery?” Bobby asked.
“Be patient,” Joao replied. He held up one index finger and traced the other along the screen. He clicked and scrolled, then nodded, like he was following a drumbeat only he could hear. “You see,” Joao continued, “my boss cannot have people believing that we are cutting down the jungle. That would be terrible for business.”
“But . . . that’s exactly what you’re doing,” Ava said.
“This is what you say,” Joao replied. “But without the satellite pictures, you have no proof.”
“Who is your boss, anyway?” I asked.
Joao ignored me. He hit a button on his keypad, then sat back and crossed his arms. “Now that I control the satellite, there will be no pictures, and without the proof, there is no crime.” He smiled wide and closed his laptop. “In two days, the skies will be swarming with helicopters plucking trees from the forest, and we will all make so, so much money.”
“You are traitors to your land,” Alicia said.
“To the planet,” Hank added.
“You’re criminals!” Pepedro shouted.
“Perhaps,” Joao said. “But rich ones!”
Bobby pointed to the laptop. “Wait, can you turn that on again and show me the battery design?”
“And may I have my fanny pack back?” Hank asked.
Joao moved the contents of the pack around with his finger, then zipped it up and tossed it to Hank. “Why not?” he said.
Bobby reached for the laptop. “The battery. Can I just—”
“Patience!” Joao shouted. “I told you. Please.”
“I’m tired of waiting,” Bobby said. “Let me see the design. We have a deal.”
Roger and Alex stepped between Joao and Bobby.
The helicopter was approaching.
“Unfortunately, my friend, our deal has changed,” Joao said. “My boss would like these batteries, too. We will keep the design ourselves.”
The two loggers blocked Bobby as he lunged for Joao’s computer. He stopped, then shifted one foot in front of the other and rolled his head around his shoulders, cracking his neck. “That’s not going to happen. I’m a black belt in several different styles of martial arts and I—”
Unfortunately, Bobby never finished his sentence.
Roger’s right fist flashed forward as quickly as a golden lancehead and smashed into Bobby’s forehead.
He dropped like a puppet without strings.
Joao winced. “I thought he would block it.”
Alex laughed, then called to Roger in Portuguese. He walked over to Bobby and began untying his boots.
“You’re taking his shoes?” Matt asked.
“We’re taking all your shoes,” Roger replied. “Don’t worry. These two are good guides. You’ll survive. But this will slow you down long enough for us to finish our work here in the jungle.”
“You’re not serious?” I asked.
Roger tapped Alex, who showed us the pistol once more.
Okay, so they were serious.
Alex stared at my sneakers. “Why are you wearing basketball shoes in the jungle?”
I untied them. Hank, the geniuses, and Alicia did the same. Pepedro started to unlace his boots when Joao stopped him. “No, no, that left foot, we must protect. You can keep yours.”
Ava protested. “Are you kidding me? That’s not fair!”
“You aren’t the future of Brazilian football,” Joao said.
The noise from the helicopter’s engines grew from a distant whir to a rhythmic roar as we tossed our shoes into a pile. Three steel cables with large harnesses dropped through the canopy. Joao stepped into his harness first; then Alex and Roger followed, each of them holding two or three pairs of shoes. Taunting Hank, Joao held his hands together in a false sign of gratitude. “Thank you,” he mouthed.
Alex yelled into his handheld radio. The harnesses rose, and Joao waved good-bye, leaving us mostly shoeless and completely stranded in the middle of the rainforest.
14
CHERYL TO THE RESCUE
So this is weird. I know. But during the walk back to Hank’s camp, I started thinking how it would have been nice if Min showed up. Back home, she had some kind of internal sensor that told her when we really needed her. Sometimes she’d just pop into the apartment to say hello at the exact moment my thoughts started spinning in some dark direction. Or she’d show up with soup when one of us was feeling sick. The jungle was hot, and I wasn’t all that hungry, and I know this doesn’t make sense, but as we trudged ahead, I wanted Min to bring me soup.
Mud was seeping up between my toes with each step. Treading on the slightest root or twig sent a jolt of pain up through my foot. But Matt wasn’t complaining, and Ava was marching ahead without making a sound, so I kept my mouth shut, too. Pepedro kept offering his boots to Ava and me, but she didn’t accept them, so neither could I.
We also had another member of our group now. Although part of me wanted to leave him, Bobby dragged along behind us, cursing and swearing to himself as he struggled to keep pace. Meanwhile, Hank was annoyingly cheerful. Maybe it was the fact that he’d been alone in the jungle for three weeks and finally had some company. Or maybe, as he claimed, he really did like the feel of the raw ground on his feet. Either way, I couldn’t see any reason for us to be happy. Not only we were stuck, but we’d completely failed. Hank’s plan was ruined. The rainforest was doomed. And someone else was going to get rich off his battery designs.
Back at the campsite, Matt untied the rope and lowered our backpacks, and Hank started pulling his cookware out of the bushes. “I’ve been saving this,” he said, holding up a foil packet. “Dehydrated French onion soup. Your favorite, right, Jack?”
No, it was Matt’s favorite. And this wasn’t quite what I’d been hoping for earlier. Min wasn’t here. But still. He’d saved us soup. I smiled and thanked him.
“We need to find a way out of here,” Ava said.
“First, we need some nourishment,” Hank said. “Then we can find a solution to our current predicament.”
“This isn’t a predicament,” Ava said. “It’s a disaster.”
“I agree with her,” Alicia replied.
Matt found a few fallen logs and pulled them into the clearing to use as benches. Pepedro disappeared into the jungle in search of plants and herbs to improve the soup. Bobby sat on one of the logs with his knees pulled up to his chest and a fierce scowl stretched across his face.
Alicia assured us that she and her brother would be able to get us back to the city alive. “Maybe a few scratches, some bruises, a broken bone or two in the worst case,” she added. “But we’ll survive. No problem. Our main concern should be stopping these criminals.”
“Could we set traps or something?” Matt suggested.
“Impossible,” Hank said. “You heard Joao. In a few days this place is going to be swarming with logging crews. There’s no way we can stop them on the ground.”
“You couldn’t even stop three,” Bobby mumbled.
“You weren’t much help,” Alicia snapped.
“Please, let’s not fight,” Hank said. “If we’re going to figure this out, we have to be on the same team. I despise sports metaphors, but in this case, I suppose it’s necessary. Bobby, are you on our team?”
“I was a swimmer and a golfer,” he said. “I competed for myself. No teams.”
Hank exhaled heavily. “Okay, let’s try this again. Do you want to stop them from destroying the rainforest?”
“To be honest, I don’t really care about the jungle.” He pu
lled up his sleeve and ran his hand over a bunch of red welts. “And the jungle definitely doesn’t care about us. But yes, I want to stop them. They stole my battery designs.”
“My designs,” Hank corrected him. “But still, we can work with that. Let’s discuss our options.”
As Hank prepared the soup and Pepedro added in handfuls of herbs, we talked through a few different ways we might prevent the crews from cutting down the trees. Unfortunately, all of them pretty much stunk. When the broth was ready, we brought out our folding plastic bowls; Bobby didn’t have one, but Hank tossed him his and said he’d eat from the pot. Hank served the soup, and for a few minutes we sipped in silence. Matt was slurping up his broth, and Hank winced, but he didn’t say anything.
Surprisingly, in all the plans that the geniuses, Alicia, and Bobby suggested, none of them had mentioned my siblings’ satellite. “What about Cheryl?” I asked.
“Who’s Cheryl?” Hank asked.
I explained.
A fine mist of soup sprayed out of Hank’s mouth. “Wait. What? You two launched a CubeSat?”
Matt blushed.
“You were the one who suggested it,” Ava reminded Hank. “After we got back from Hawaii. Remember?”
“Vaguely. But you actually built it? That’s amazing! How did you get it—I mean, Cheryl—into orbit?”
“Well, you had already secured two spots on the rocket, and when your backup CubeSat failed, Jack e-mailed a few people and we sent ours to the launch company instead.”
Hank glared at me. I shrugged. “What?”
“Okay,” he continued, nodding. “Understood. And really,” he said, focusing on the geniuses again, “I’m amazed. Astounded!”
“Totally,” I cut in, “and they can tell you all about how they built it later.” I pointed at my siblings. “If you can connect to your satellite, can’t you just get it to take photos of the area? Can’t you program it to do what Hank’s satellite was supposed to do?”
“You can’t program anything without a computer,” Bobby said. His know-it-all tone was cosmically annoying.
“Matt has his laptop,” I noted.
