The Expedition

by Chris Babu

  Sam picked up a neat stack of folded papers. “We’ve reproduced maps with detailed layouts of many of the cities between here and Boston so you can find your way. That includes a map of Boston and its surroundings. In addition, we’ve gone over how to find the North Star to get your bearings. Any questions?”

  Charlie raised his hand.

  “Yes, Charlie, only if it’s a real question and not a joke.”

  He dropped his hand. “Never mind then.”

  Sam couldn’t help but laugh. “Good. As for the Aeru superbug, while we’ve researched it in labs, we really don’t know its status outside the walls. Clearly, nobody goes outside. That it can exist without a host is one of the unfortunate characteristics of Pseudomonas Aeruginosa. In other words, it can just be out there, in nature. Bacteria such as E. coli live in the rectums of cows and die outside a host. When—”

  “Rectum?” Charlie shouted. “Damn near killed ‘em!”

  Sam put her hands on her hips. “Are you finished?”

  “Yeah, nah. I have a question.”

  “We don’t have time for your colorful sense of humor.”

  “No, it’s a real question. I was wondering if you’d heard about the sick chemist.”

  Sam closed her eyes and pulled off her glasses. “No, Charlie, I haven’t.”

  “If you can’t helium, and you can’t curium, you may have to barium.” He cracked up.

  Drayden’s patience with Charlie was wearing thin. He was such a flunk sometimes. “C’mon, Charlie.”

  “Guys, we might be dead in a week,” Charlie said. “Let’s have some fun; let’s take that boat out for a spin.”

  Sam grumbled under her breath, placing her glasses back on. “Can we continue, please? We’re not taking the boat out for a spin.”

  Drayden raised his hand. “Sam, Charlie raises a valid concern. How can you be sure this boat, you know, floats? Has no leaks?”

  “Excellent question, Drayden.”

  “Yeah, sure, excellent question when he asks it,” Charlie mumbled.

  “We’ve tested it,” Sam said. “We built a trailer for it, towed it behind a vehicle, and sailed it in the reservoir in the Meadow, in Central Park. It worked quite nicely.”

  Sam wheeled over a giant map of New England with Manhattan in the lower left. A bright green line snaked from the east side of Manhattan to their final destination in Boston. It ran up the East River, through Long Island Sound, then through a tiny canal in Massachusetts, which cut off Cape Cod. It concluded by running alongside the eastern Massachusetts coast and hitting Boston.

  With a pen, Sam tapped the green line. “Here is your path. It’s pretty straightforward. You’re going to hug the Connecticut and Rhode Island shoreline, which will be your guide. The only tricky parts will come after darkness falls, and here.” She circled the tiny canal. “You need to enter Buzzard’s Bay and weave through this narrow canal in Bourne, Massachusetts. If you miss Buzzard’s Bay, you’ll have to go all the way around Cape Cod, making the trip much lengthier and more dangerous. Essentially, you need to go left of Martha’s Vineyard and Cuttyhunk Island, which is tiny. The inside of Buzzard’s Bay is also confusing because lots of peninsulas jut out into the water.”

  She pulled a miniature digital clock from her coat pocket. “Now, this part is critical.”

  Catrice was paying attention, Drayden noted, while Charlie was whispering something to Sidney, who shoved his head away.

  “You need to find landmarks and note the boat’s speed. This is how you will determine your location, which will be crucial at night. You’ve each received a digital watch. Depending on your speed, and how long you’ve been traveling, you can determine where you are on the map. Most likely it will be dark by the time you reach Buzzard’s Bay. That means you’ll have to know precisely what time you should bear left. Once you traverse the canal, you’ll be in Cape Cod Bay, and it’s a straight shot to Boston from there. Simply hug the Massachusetts coast on your left. Any questions?”

  “Yeah,” Charlie said. “Do you know what happened when the red boat crashed into the blue boat?”

  Sam feigned interest. “What, Charlie?”

  “The crew was marooned,” he said, laughing before he could deliver the whole punchline. “C’mon, that was good.”

  “Charlie,” Sam said, scratching her head, “have you heard the one about the boy who didn’t pay attention in navigation class and got lost at sea?”

  “Is that the one where he finds a genie lamp and wishes for the ocean to be made out of beer, but then realizes he has nowhere to pee?”

  Sam threw her hands in the air. “I give up.”

  Drayden exhaled audibly. “Charlie, quit being such a nerf.”

  “Um, like I can understand any of this. This is why we have you. You’re smart, I’m not. You say stuff like ‘kerfuffle.’ I don’t even know what that means.”

  Drayden wrinkled his forehead. “What the…I’ve never used the word ‘kerfuffle’ in my life.”

  “Whatever, man. It’s the kinda thing smart people say.”

  Sam tucked her pen into the chest pocket of her lab coat. “Okay. We’re done. Let’s run through the boat operation. Follow me.”

  The group trailed her through a long corridor flanked by tables. A jumble of wires and circuit boards covered one. Another held several tanks of water in all different colors. Various types of toilets furnished one section.

  Drayden scanned the room as they walked, searching for anything related to exploration or communication. “Sam, after the boat, can you tell us about some of the other experiments? Especially ones related to your attempts to contact other civilizations?”

  She glanced back. “Sure, if we have time.”

  Toward the rear of the boat, a ladder extended up to the uncovered deck. With everyone following, Sam climbed the ladder and strode into the enclosed cockpit section in the middle. It was a tiny room; the five of them barely fit. A wooden seat faced the boat’s controls on the right. Straight ahead a narrow staircase led down below the front deck.

  “What’s downstairs?” Sidney asked.

  “It’s a basic bathroom. We didn’t develop anything else below deck and sealed the area off. This boat is primitive, built with the sole purpose of getting you to Boston and back.”

  Sam ran them through the controls: a steel steering wheel, roughly a foot in diameter; a throttle to control speed, which also worked in reverse; an odometer that displayed their speed; a compass; and a switch to turn on the boat’s headlights. After, she showed them the manual anchor, which was operated with a crank, on the front deck.

  “This is a motorboat. What about gas?” Drayden asked Sam. “Will we have enough? And where did it come from?”

  “Years ago, the Bureau hoarded as much gasoline as they could find. They drained it from all the cars in New America before dumping them in the East River. They preserved it in pressurized, sealed containers, in case it was ever needed. We’ll stock the boat with reserve fuel. You will have plenty.”

  Sam climbed down the ladder. When everyone else reached the concrete floor, she clapped her hands together. “That’s basically it. The boat is simple to operate. Sure, it’ll take you some time to get the feel of it. Anyone could drive this, though.”

  This was Drayden’s chance. “Sam, you’ve told us about some past failed attempts to contact anyone outside New America. A battery-powered airplane with a message but no control over it. A glorified message in a bottle. Attempted radio communications. Are there any others? Are any ongoing right now?”

  Clearly losing interest, Charlie wandered off.

  “Well, there is one, the most promising attempt to date.”

  That got Drayden’s attention. Catrice perked up as well.

  Sam pointed. “It’s another airplane, solar powered. It’s very cool. Here, I’ll show you.” She wal
ked deeper into the warehouse, with Drayden, Catrice, and Sidney in tow.

  His excitement built as they reached the sleek aircraft.

  It was white and similar to a glider, with solar panels covering the wings and a propeller jutting out from the nose. Its eight-foot length was dwarfed by the nearly twenty-foot wingspan.

  “Hey, you guys!” Charlie hollered from back the other way. He was sitting on one of the toilets, his pants around his ankles.

  “Oh God.” Sidney shielded her eyes.

  “I hope he knows those toilets don’t work,” Sam said.

  “Idiot.” Drayden rubbed his temples. “Sam, please, tell us about this plane.”

  “The problem with radio control is range. We’re limited to around five miles. But one of our scientists devised a way to bounce the radio waves off the ionosphere, which is a layer of gas about sixty miles up the Earth’s atmosphere. Radio stations Pre-Confluence used to broadcast signals across large distances that way. Using that technique, in theory, we could maintain radio contact over great distances. That’s the simplified explanation anyway. In practice, it’s quite difficult. Plus, it’d be a bit like old space exploration. We would have to know the exact time of flight, speed, and direction to determine its location. Hypothetically, we could fly it straight to Boston.”

  Drayden could barely speak he was so euphoric. “With this plane we wouldn’t need to go on the expedition. Our lives wouldn’t be at risk. Why wouldn’t the Bureau try this first?”

  Sam readjusted her glasses. “I don’t disagree. But I don’t make those decisions.”

  “Is it ready to go?” Catrice asked.

  “Almost.”

  Drayden practically choked on his spit. “How soon?”

  “Very. Probably a few weeks.”

  His heart sank. That was way too long.

  The group rode their bicycles south on William Street toward their apartment building. The bikes were yet another abundant luxury enjoyed in the Palace versus the Dorms. Their former school, Norman Thomas High School, owned four bicycles governed by a signup sheet with a two-month waiting list. Only a few lucky families owned bikes. Despite their scarcity, pretty much everybody in the Dorms had learned to ride a bike, even Catrice. Charlie, though gifted at all other athletic endeavors, couldn’t ride a bike with gears. He rode a “dirt bike” since it didn’t require any shifting, while everyone else rode ten-speeds.

  The overcast sky and blustery wind portended rain. The deserted streets here, about five blocks north of Bureau headquarters, were narrow, lined with rundown shops, restaurants, and former banks.

  “I got a lousy feeling about this, guys,” Charlie said after they had ridden in silence for a few minutes. “When Charlie gets a lousy feeling, well, watch out.”

  “Forget delaying it,” Sidney said. “I don’t want to go at all.”

  Drayden groaned, his ankle flaring up from the pedaling. “I think that solar airplane is the key. Sam said it would be ready in a few weeks. Maybe they can speed it up. If they have that, why would they send us and four Guardians out to possibly die?”

  “Because they don’t care if we die,” Catrice said.

  As usual, she was right, and cut straight to the heart of the problem. Even if the plane were ready now, the Bureau might move forward with the expedition anyway.

  “You nailed it,” Drayden said. “We either need to show that an alternative is superior to the expedition or that we’re incapable of going right now.”

  Charlie held up his fist. “Want me to break everyone’s legs?”

  “No, Charlie,” Drayden said, “but that’s kind of the idea. If we literally couldn’t go, they couldn’t force us, right? If we stalled long enough for the scientists to complete the solar plane and it was successful, the expedition might be scrapped.”

  A smartly-dressed middle-aged couple headed toward them, arm in arm. After slowing and whispering to the woman, the man waved.

  Drayden and the other pledges stopped when they reached them.

  The man appeared to be fighting back a grin. “Excuse me, aren’t you the kids who passed the Initiation?”

  “Yeah, that’s us.” Drayden said.

  The woman’s face lit up. “Congratulations. Which one of you is Drayden?”

  Charlie nodded at him. “He is.” He stood tall. “I’m Charlie.”

  Sidney pinched him on the arm. He pretended it didn’t hurt and smacked her hand away.

  “You guys are legends in the Palace already,” the man said. “It’s an honor to meet you. I hope you enjoy life here. Take care.” The duo strolled off.

  The pledges had become semi-famous in the Palace, with episodes like that growing more common. They walked their bikes south as the streets became too crowded. When they reached Maiden Lane, the golden Bureau headquarters came into view.

  “Listen,” Drayden said, “we’re all on the same page, right? I say we show up at Harris von Brooks’s office and convince him to postpone the expedition. Suggest they try the solar airplane first.”

  Catrice looked pained. “He seemed pretty firm about not delaying it.”

  “We’re right here,” Charlie said. “Let’s just do it now.”

  “No,” Drayden said. “We need to think about this, to construct a persuasive argument. Catrice is right. Von Brooks doesn’t seem like the type of guy who’s going to suddenly agree and call it off. We’ll go tomorrow morning.”

  “Von Brooks is a one-eyed cockroach,” Charlie said. “What if we say we’re sick or something?”

  “They can check with the nurses,” Catrice said.

  “Yeah, they’ll know it’s shkat,” Drayden added.

  As they passed Bureau headquarters, more people packed the streets. Some stared at them closely, whispering, pointing, and even offering congratulations. Charlie puffed his chest out, held his chin high, and strutted with swagger, relishing the attention.

  After crossing Pine Street, a strikingly handsome man in a tight-fitting suit approached, waving as he neared.

  “Who is that?” Sidney muttered.

  The comely man stopped in front of them, clapping his hands together. “Hello, pledges.” He winked. “I’m Dennis Robinson, the new Bureau rep for the Dorms. I’ll be spending a lot of time there, working closely with Lily Haddad, your ‘mayor,’ and taking Dorm concerns to the Bureau.”

  He pursed his lips for a moment. “I’m taking over for Mr. Cox.”

  Thomas Cox had been the liaison between the Palace and the Dorms, the zone the teens had lived in until completing the Initiation. Cox had been arrested, charged with plotting to overthrow the Bureau, and executed.

  Thomas Cox’s execution had bothered Drayden ever since Holst told them about it. Drayden personally knew about the plot; he’d heard it with his own ears. Before the Initiation, he’d hidden under Lily Haddad’s desk in her office after sneaking in to question her about his mother’s exile, and accidentally overheard the conversation between her and Cox. It was clear they were indeed plotting to overthrow Holst. What bugged Drayden was, how did the Bureau find out?

  “I’ve only been on the job a few days,” Robinson went on, “but I’m quite familiar with you four. Unlike previous years, the Bureau is spreading the news of your success in the Initiation. Finally, someone lived through it.” He stroked his fancy chin beard, smiling.

  Drayden felt the urge to slap him.

  “They want people to be aware of kids passing, in hopes others will enter next year. On that note, congratulations. What an amazing feat. I’m honored to meet you guys.”

  He extended his hand to Catrice. “Are you Sidney or Catrice?”

  His petty jealousy flaring up, Drayden couldn’t help watching her greet this ridiculously dapper guy.

  Catrice, who appeared frozen, was saved when Sidney thrust her hand out for a shake, a sly grin stretched a
cross her face. “That’s Catrice. I’m Sidney. So nice to meet you.”

  Gross, Drayden thought. Was she flirting with this guy? He had to be thirty years old.

  “That would make you Charlie,” he said, shaking his hand. “And last but not least, Drayden.”

  “Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Robinson,” he said with a firm handshake.

  “Please, call me Dennis. My dad is Mr. Robinson. Anyway, even though my work will mostly be in the Dorms, I’m here for you guys too. If you need anything, at all, feel free. My office is around the corner at Sixty Wall Street, in the old Deutsche Bank building.”

  Sidney touched him on the arm. “I’m sure we’ll be stopping by…Dennis.”

  Dennis checked his watch. “Hey, Drayden, can I grab you alone for a minute?”

  “Uh, sure, yeah. I’ll catch up with you guys later,” he said to the group.

  “See ya, Dray,” Sidney said.

  When the others turned left on Wall Street, Catrice glanced back, her face a question mark.

  After they walked away with their bikes, Dennis’s smile faded. “Drayden, from what I hear, you’re the reason everyone passed the Initiation. That’s amazing. Between you and me, I don’t think there are many people in the Palace who could pass it.”

  “Thanks,” Drayden said. “But is that really what you wanted to tell me in private?”

  He reached inside his suit jacket pocket and pulled out a white envelope. “No, there’s something else. I’m working closely with Lily Haddad now, helping her deal with issues in the Dorms. She went on and on about how she’d been mentoring you over the years, and how close you two were.”

  What in hell is he talking about? Drayden had met Lily once. “Okay.”