"Look at this," Arby said, standing before a wall unit. It was a complex of glowing LED displays and lots of buttons, and looked to Kelly like a complicated thermostat.
"What does it do?" Kelly said.
"Monitors the whole trailer," he said. "You can do everything from here. All the systems, all the equipment. And look, there's TV...." He pushed a button, and a monitor glowed to life. It showed Eddie walking toward them, across the floor.
"And, hey, what's this?" Arby said. At the bottom of the display was a button with a securitv cover. He flipped the cover open. The button was silver and said DEF.
"Hey, I bet this is that bear defense he was talking about."
A moment later, Eddie opened the trailer door and said, "You better stop that, you'll drain the batteries. Come on, now. You heard what the doc said. Time for you kids to go home."
Kelly and Arby exchanged glances.
"Okay," Kelly said. "We're going."
Reluctantly, they left the trailer.
They walked across the shed to Thorne's office to say goodbye. Arby said, "I wish he'd let us go."
"Me, too."
"I don't want to stay home for break," he said. "They're just going to be working all the time." He meant his parents.
"I know."
Kelly didn't want to go home, either. This idea of a field test during spring break was perfect for her, because it got her out of the house, and out of a bad situation. Her mother did data entry in an insurance company during the day, and at night she worked as a waitress at Denny's. So her mom was always busy at her jobs, and her latest boyfriend, Phil, tended to hang around the house a lot at night. It had been okay when Emily was there, too, but now Emily was studying nursing at the community college, so Kelly was alone in the house. And Phil was sort of creepy. But her mother liked Phil, so she never wanted to hear Kelly say anything bad about him. She just told Kelly to grow up.
So now Kelly went to Thorne's office, hoping against hope that at the last minute he would relent. He was on the phone, his back to them. On the screen of his computer, they saw one of the satellite images they had taken from Levine's apartment. Thorne was zooming in on the image, successive magnifications. They knocked on the door, opened it a little.
"Bye, Dr. Thorne."
"See you, Dr. Thorne."
Thorne turned, holding the phone to his ear. "Bye, kids." He gave a brief wave.
Kelly hesitated. "Listen, could we just talk to you for a minute about - "
Thorne shook his head. "No."
"But - "
"No, Kelly. I've got to place this call now," he said. "It's already four a,m. in Africa, and in a little while she'll go to sleep."
"Who?"
"Sarah Harding."
"Sarah Harding is coming, too?" she said, lingering at the door.
"I don't know." Thorne shrugged. "Have a good vacation, kids. See you in a week. Thanks for your help. Now get out of here." He looked across the shed. "Eddie, the kids are leaving. Show them to the door, and lock them out! Get me those papers! And pack a bag, you're coming with me!" Then in a different voice he said, "Yes, operator, I'm still waiting."
And he turned away.
Harding
Through the night-vision goggles, the world appeared in shades of fluorescent green. Sarah Harding stared out at the African savannah. Directly ahead, above the high grass, she saw the rocky outcrop of a kopje. Bright-green pinpoints glowed back from the boulders. Probably rock hyraxes, she thought, or some other small rodent.
Standing up in her jeep, wearing a sweatshirt against the cool night air, feeling the weight of the goggles, she turned her head slowly. She could hear the yelping in the night, and she was trying to locate the source.
Even from her high vantage point, standing up in the vehicle, she knew the animals would be hidden from direct view. She turned slowly north, looking for movement in the grass. She saw none. She looked back quickly, the green world swirling momentarily. Now she faced south.
And she saw them.
The grass rippled in a complex pattern as the pack raced forward, yelping and barking, prepared to attack. She caught a glimpse of the female she called Face One, or Fl. Fl was distinguished by a white streak between her eyes. F1 loped along, in the peculiar sideways gait of hyenas; her teeth were bared; she glanced back at the rest of the pack, noting their position.
Sarah Harding swung the glasses through the darkness, looking ahead of the pack. She saw the prey: a herd of African buffalo, standing belly-deep in the grass, agitated. They were bellowing and stamping their feet.
The hyenas yelped louder, a pattern of sound that would confuse the prey. They rushed through the herd, trying to break it up, trying to separate the calves from their mothers. African buffalo looked dull and stupid, but in fact they were among the most dangerous large African mammals, heavy powerful creatures with sharp horns and notoriously mean dispositions. The hyenas could not hope to bring down an adult, unless it was injured or sick.
But they would try to take a calf
Sitting behind the wheel of the Jeep, Makena, her assistant, said, "You want to move closer?"
"No, this is fine."
In fact, it was more than fine. Their jeep was on a slight rise and they had a better-than-average view. With any luck, she would record the entire attack pattern. She turned on the video camera, mounted on a tripod five feet above her head, and dictated rapidly into the tape recorder.
"Fl south, F2 and F5 flanking, twenty yards. F3 center. F6 circling wide cast. Can't see F7. F8 circling north. Fl straight through. Disrupting. Herd moving, stamping. There's F7. Straight through. F8 angling through from the north. Coming out, circling again."