After the Compromise was signed, the Obi Forest was deemed uninhabitable, having been treated with unstable radicals. According to law, it was hazardous to carbon-based biology. Nevertheless, tales of illicit voyages made their way back to Cobane. According to rumors, the experimental land was wild, home to mutant trees and animals. Everything from killer mosquitos to talking snakes. In legitimately published literature, I read about an English-made antitrespassing device that made the Obi Forest difficult to find and impossible to pass through.

If that was true, then why was Hosea headed in that direction? A piece of information scratched at the back of my mind, something Rowan had said while arguing with Teacher Saxon.

And the missing planes? Rowan asked. Explain that!

How many did your contact say are missing? Saxon said.

Four, at least, according to her last letter. The Kongo Technology Center doesn’t keep an inventory of planes that are out of commission.

Then how can she know four are missing? Saxon asked.

At least four! And she knows because she’s a staff engineer at the KTC, she knows what’s missing. Besides the planes, remember, she warned us of a private, secret project Kumar is developing using government funds. The question is not how many planes, but what possible purpose the Director could have for misdirecting them?

My heart throbbed. The clues pointed to a dangerous conclusion. Hosea was going to the Obi Forest because it was no longer abandoned. Director Kumar, using hydroplanes hijacked from the Kongo Technology Center, had nourished the land for his own purpose—I couldn’t guess what. However, if I didn’t escape soon, I would know it all. With a few hours of hard riding, we’d be at the Obi Forest and wise to the Director’s secret project.

Using one finger, I scooped up the last of the paste and popped it into my mouth. I wiped my hands, set my plate aside and retrieved ink and paper. I sketched a scale map of the Kongo from memory. The northern perimeter of America was seven hundred miles across at its widest point. From there, it narrowed through the Clayskin lands.

I drew a jagged horizontal line to represent the Obi Forest. From either end of the forest I angled two more lines, bringing them to meet at a point, the southernmost tip of the Kongo. I sketched a star there and wrote Hannibal House. I made eleven other stars, including one labeled Cobane. Starting there, I traced our progress north, trying to pinpoint exactly where we were. If I couldn’t escape Hosea before we left the oasis, I would need a map to guide me back.

Something crept across the edge of my vision.