White Wolf holds the bottle beckoning me, "You try.The baby needs milk."
Don't want to get near him, but need to play along. Do what he says. What choice do I have? Holding my breath, creep to the couch. Sit. He nods,passes the scaly ball and bottle to me. He sits back and opens his arms, resting them on the back of the couch, watching. Why? Why would he care about this terrified baby pangolin? Inhale, I want to calm her. How can I? I'm quivering. Focus. Breathe. Focus on her scales...take a deeper breath...focus on soothing her frightened being.
Scale-by-scale she comes to life. Slowly unfurling, blooming like a scaly flower to almost eight inches. Her eyes are like black beads. Her shiny, black nose is at the end of a long snout. Like a dainty sneeze, she snorts at my arms and face. Gently I place the bottle under her nose. She latches on immediately. Hungry. Pulls hard. Her pointy claws press into my hand. I trace the graceful curve of her ridged ear, and the scales on her back. She's so strange...like a little dinosaur...or an alien from a distant planet.I forget where I am for a nano. She's perfect, strangely amazing,sweet and innocent. Her contentment is all I know. I freeze when Ifeel something crawling up my back.
The old man is touching my braid! "Beautiful," he whispers.
Adrenalin shoots through me and I bolt upright, clutching the baby. Instantly she rolls into a ball.
"Do not touch me!"I yell, while my brain silently screams, 'where are you Tuk?!'
The old man pats the couch, "I promise. No more touching." He says. "Come sit."
"I'll stand until Tuk gets back!" I reply, trembling with rage and disgust.
White Wolf nods, smiling with his disgusting yellow teeth. He's dangerous. Dark. Heartless.Sadistic. To be this close to him feels like being at the edge of sticky quicksand sucking me down. I cannot trust anything he says. My heart pounds, inhale deeply...thoughts race wildly...what is taking Tuk so long...what happened to Big Bear...WHERE is Tuk...what's so special about this pangolin...why does he want to feed it...what is he going to do with me...where is Tuk?!
He's watching me...watching my face...watching my eyes dart around the room while my thoughts bubble, like methane discharging from the permafrost.
"You have a question?" He asks smiling, tilting his head.
Don't want to talk to him...but...I need to know..."Why are you feeding this baby???" I blurt.
His eyes brighten, "To fatten it up, of course...for dinner," he says, running his tongue over his lip, his eyes wide.
I stifle my gasp, and hold her closer as Big Bear thumps down the stairs. He crosses the room,and nods to White Wolf who stands, straightens his jacket and barks something in Chinese to the ships' navigation. I recognize one word—Mandalay. The engines rev higher. In seconds, the ship picks up speed. We're heading straight into the mouth of the Irrawaddy.
"Where is Tuk?"I demand. His name comes out clipped.
White Wolf approaches."The baby likes you," he says, as the pangolin slowly unrolls."Who is duck?"
Why doesn't he understand?"Mr. Tuttuk!" I snap.
"He is upstairs. I am going to discuss business with him now. Feed the baby. Make him fat and juicy," he says, and shoots Big Bear a look. The freak-a-droid nods. White Wolf glides across the room and up the stairs like the devil's ghostly grandfather.
Big Bear flaps over,inches from me, expressionless. I know droids can do horrible things,but I refuse to be afraid of this ridiculous humanoid.
Without a word, he lifts me around the waist and carries me to the wall of cages.
"Stop! Stop! Stop it!Put me down!" I shout, punching him with the hand that grips the bottle. The other clutches the pangolin. She's waving her tail back and forth, sounding just like a rattlesnake. Punching the freak-a-droid hasn't done a thing except squirt milk down his back. Istop fighting. It's useless.
He sets me down in a cage at the very end of the wall, bolts the door and heads up stairs. I'm alone, imprisoned behind bars of white, in a giant white room...like Mom and Dad? Tuk's missing...and there's no way to reach him.
The baby stops rattling.She wants to feed again. The milk's almost gone...because I wasted it! My mind drifts to the endangereds...will they be sold...killed,skinned, and eaten? Will they become bowls, lights, coats, rugs,table legs? And what will happen to me?Will I become the old man's slave? Will he sell me to the highes tbidder? It's all too horrifying, but impossible to stop thinking about the hideous possibilities. Panicking, my breathing quickens,fast and shallow. Getting dizzy...can't breathe...lightheaded. That everything here is white doesn't help. Put my head between my knees.Breathe. Slowly. Feel like I'm sinking...falling in a pit; a deep,black pit. So much for Tuk's plan! Try to take a deep breath. Take another breath. Sip the air. Mig yips. He wants out. They all want out. I want out. I'm desperate. Afraid. Angry!
I reach into my boot for the gun, press the grip in my palm, and pull it out. Wonder if I'll have a chance to use it. One moment...one nano....one, tiny instant....that's it...that's all I need. The gun is useless without the amplifier. I dig into my other boot, grab the cone, twist it around the nozzle, shove the gun in my pocket. The grip feels good in my damp hand. My pocket bulges. I don't care because he won't know. A wave of confidence shoots through me.
Kalluk! Mom's favorite Inupiaq curse pops into my head. But 'Thunder' is way, way too lame for what's happening. I stare through the bars feeling like I might explode, and mutter "Kalluk." Then say it again,louder, "Kalluk!" My mindsight flashes on hundreds of silver spirit cords that tangle through the floor and all at once, a rage I've never felt overwhelms me, "Kalluk!" I scream, and kick the door with such force that two of the bars bend. The baby pangolin instantly rolls in a ball again. It feels good to kick. I do it again, and again...and again. It's weird. The bars are only plastic? They curve with each jolt, until I can actually kick a hole big enough to crawl through!
I zip the baby into the back of my Xip3 before crawling out. A voice in my mind's ear whispers something. What? Swirling wind choked with sand. I hear it again. The tortoise? Wriggling through the bars I stand, and wobble outside the cage. Something's wrong with my bionic foot. I can't care—not now. What is Marilyn trying to tell me?
"Machine man is okay," she says, and sends a picture of Tuk in the galley.
"What? Where is he?"
She sends another image. Tuk in the hall on Anniqsuqti. "Machine man is okay."
I take a step, and crumple to the floor. Lifting my leg, I try to point my bionic toes. My entire foot flips back, dangles, like it's grotesquely doublejointed. Something broke in my ankle. The joint doesn't work. There's no way I can put my weight on it, not normally. Slowly I get up. Put all the weight on my real foot, bend my knee to steady myself, and let my bionic foot hang. Rest the toes lightly on the floor.
Marilyn sends a picture of Tuk in a waterfall, "He's in the monsoon," she conveys with her sultry, sandy hissing.
Waterfall? Monsoon? Where is he? The only water is the sea.
Feel like Antoadia, as I hop-limp to the giant window, pull the handle; slide it open and hop-limp onto a narrow deck outside. Peer over the railing and...there he is—clinging to the side of the ship, at the surface of the water, five floors below!
Waves pour over his head as we churn through the delta. He lifts an arm, and the opposite foot, then the other arm —pressing his fingers, palms and toes against the ship's slick surface. He should climb quickly, but he's not getting traction. He keeps sliding down. I wave. He sees me. His lips move, trying to tell me something. Can't hear anything over the drone of the engines. Hop-limping back to Marilyn's cage, I slip her inside the jacket, against my belly for warmth. She's got to open up so I can get that miniQ! I exhale down inside my jacket, onto her for extra warmth. It only takes a few seconds before she crawls out.
"Thank you Marilyn!" I say, unbuckling the miniQ, and slip it around my thumb. In the frigid air, she retracts into her shell, and I put her back in the cage. For now.
Hobbling outside, I whisper-yell, "Tuk!" into the tiny device on my thumb.
"Hundreds of pangolins.... alive!" he yells, scuttling up the side of the ship, and sliding down again. The setae on his palms and feet are too wet. The yacht might as well be ice. I keep whisper-yelling, "Climb above the water line," but all he can do is scuttle up two feet,and slide down again. Scuttling and sliding. One hand finally makes it above the water line for a dry spot! With one hand, then the other, he scrambles up the vertical wall, faster and faster. Handover hand, his legs and arms moving like a wind-up toy. In seconds,he's up, over the railing, and sprints into the room past me.
"We must find Big Bear and White Wolf!" he shouts, frantically looking around as a puddle of water forms at his feet.
"Give me a nano,"I close my eyes, quiet my mind and focus my mindsight. "They're...on the bridge, up this flight of stairs, then down another, two levels below, in the bow," I say, and open my eyes. Tuk's bent over,running his hands down his legs, squeezing the water out of his pants.
"We're defenseless against them, Tuk. White Wolf is evil and the freak-a-droid is strong...as a bear."
As the puddle grows at his feet, Mig, Sleuth, Buzzie, Marilyn and Antoadia ache to be released.
"Out! Out! Out!"Mig whines sending me images of the tundra.
Sleuth agrees with a chirp, and a picture of the grassy savanna.
Tuk points at Sleuth's cage, "Our cape hunting dog...his bite force quotient is the highest of any predator in the order Carnivora. That includes lions, tigers and bears." He's talking so fast, he's slurring his words. "We need that inferior android permanently disabled. The dog is the perfect carnivore for the job!"
I'm growing more anxious to get out of her by the nano, and say, "fine!" I don't know athing about Sleuth's bite force, but don't need convincing.
Tuk's babbling, like Dad after he's had too much coffee. "I estimate White Wolf's weight at one hundred and nine pounds. He should be light enough...."he pauses, his pupils dilating rapidly.
"For what exactly?"
"...For the vulture's talons to clutch the pallid flesh of the criminal, and drop him into the sea," he says, and pulls his shirt off, wringing it out on the floor.
"Buzzie can't lift more than thirty five pounds," I protest. "The strength of her talons does not correspond to her size! That's got to be in your data base."
"Fly," Buzzie screeches and send me an aerial picture of an evergreen forest.
"Free us from this...purgatory," Marilyn moans with an image of a thorny thicket.
Tuk unrolls his shirt, and swings it over his head, spraying me in salty drops.
"How very interesting...my vision to drop White Wolf into the sea overrode my neuromorphic chips regarding the vulture's data. Thatis a first! In which case, I will disable White Wolf myself. Given his diminutive size, it should be quite easy. At which point, you and I will take control of the ship and notify WEAPP, who will await our arrival in Mandalay."
Tuk is being way too logical. "Didn't Big Bear throw you overboard like...an hour ago?"
He stops swinging, and puts his shirt back on. "What does that have to do with my current plan?"
His confidence is absurd."You're not taking their reaction into account."
"Listen," he says,leaning in to me, "We know they will do something, but we cannot anticipate what that something will be. We must be ready to pounce, to attack, to completely overpower and subjugate them, the way they did us.Sleuth and Buzzie will be instrumental in our assault. Come on!"Tuk grabs the leash on the hook next to Sleuth's cage. "Let us unbolt their cages."