Here—assuming Kalico could read the interlacing of branches and the periodically exposed roots correctly—the forest war appeared to be one of outflanking, engulfing, and lifting an outlying trunk from its purchase. Once loose from the soil, the upended trunk was flipped upside down, roots and all, on top of an older interior section. As the defeated tree scrambled to reorient under the weight of its overturned parts, the victor secured its position by sending its roots deep with the expectation of growing a new trunk.

Michaela Hailwood stepped down from the seatruck; Lara Sanz dropped to the ground behind her. Both women took position next to Kalico as they sniffed the salt-laden breeze and surveyed the bladed expanse. Really, it wasn’t much to see, just broken black, brown, and yellowish bedrock marred by the bulldozer’s steel-cleated tracks and blade polish where the machine had cut through stone.

Sanz, being a geologist, immediately knelt, picking up a fragment of the broken sandstone.

The breeze coming in off the Gulf flipped the women’s hair and ruffled their coveralls. From the height of the knoll, they had a good view of the beach, the dunes, and the narrow strip of forest that remained between the rise and the shore.

Kalico took a moment to once again sweep the sky, as always, searching for mobbers. Instead, all she saw was a distant flock of the four-winged fliers that she’d seen out on the reef the day Shinwua had died. And, like then, these seemed to be moving farther north and away.

“Don’t get more than a couple of steps from the seatruck,” Kalico ordered. “It’s only a hundred meters between us and the end of the clearing. A quetzal can clock out at one hundred and sixty kph, which means it can have you almost before you see it coming.”

“Think a quetzal would still be around?” Michaela asked. “I mean, this was blasted. And then the bulldozer pushed it all over yonder in a big pile. That’s a lot of disturbance. I’d think the wildlife would have been scared away.”

“Or attracted to see what all the commotion was,” Kalico countered. “And look where Manfroid piled all the broken timber and dirt. Perfect place for a camouflaged predator to hide. Trust me. Stay close to the seatruck. If I holler, you leap back inside and lock the doors.”

“And where will you be?” Lara asked.

“I’ll be inside before you are.” Kalico gave her a lazy smile. “There are old jokes back on Earth. Something about, if you and I are out for a walk in the forest, I don’t have to be able to outrun a bear. If we’re suddenly face to face with one, I only have to be able to outrun you.”

“Is this one of those ‘welcome to Donovan’ things?” Michaela asked.