“I don’t know,” I say, gritting my teeth. “I don’t know. Adombukar . . .”
I turn to him, but he’s not listening to me. He’s turned to look at the containment room, his eyes on the many cages of animals, all tranquilized. I quickly open the tunnel and find him reaching out to every creature in the room, the chains connecting him to them all like a glowing web. His connection with them is so much more powerful than mine. My communication is like rudimentary sign language. His is rich and deep and complicated. He speaks each animal’s unique language. Listening in the tunnel is like standing on a cliff and staring out into space: the conversations happen like shooting stars, simultaneous and incredibly bright.
“Adombukar, we have to go.”
We do.
He walks to the nearest cage, a smaller enclosure containing what appears to be a pregnant marov. I didn’t notice her before and wonder how she became pregnant. Are the whitecoats allowing them to mate? More likely, they have artificially impregnated her to study her process. The idea makes me burn, both with anger and shame.
I didn’t know they were doing this, I tell him. He ignores me.
He opens his huge hand wide and places it against the front of the cage. It happens in an instant: the bars crumble. The dust falls to the floor in a whisper, leaving the marov free. He takes one finger and touches it gently to the animal’s neck. It doesn’t glow like the wand: he merely touches her. And she’s awake.
He moves on to the next cage, and the next. Alma has come close to me and grabs my arm as we watch. He works quickly, far more quickly than seems possible. But what he does with his hands isn’t a special trick that needs concentration: it comes as naturally to him as snapping one’s fingers or clapping one’s hands. Animals are out of their cages, milling about, some of them coming over to Alma and me to sniff our legs. Some of them merely stand, watching Adombukar. I’m in awe of their beauty, their bright colors, their unique movements. This is what I always thought it would be like: seeing the amazing animals of Faloiv up close, watching them live their lives. I just didn’t think it would be . . . like this. When Adombukar reaches the cages of animals that are potentially dangerous—igua and a younger gwabi—I say his name, afraid.
Adombukar. Isn’t that a bad idea?
The Faloii have no predators but the dirixi. And everyone here—he glances at the animals that have awakened—has an agreement.
What . . . what about us? I say.
He looks at me and then at Alma and says out loud, “They will not harm you.”
There’s a metallic clatter and I spin around to look toward the doors, expecting to see the guards already bursting through. They’re not, but it’s obvious they’re working on the scanner.
“Oh no,” Alma moans, and then jumps involuntarily as a tufali comes to nudge her leg, inhaling her scent. I recognize the tufali: she’s the same one who put one of her tusks through a whitecoat’s thigh.
“The guards are going to go crazy when they see all the specimens out of their cages,” I say.
“I have an idea,” Alma says suddenly, grabbing my arm again. She rushes from my side across the containment room to where Adombukar is still opening cages. She pulls out the pavi extract again; using it, she begins opening cages too. “Come on! Use the wand. We need to hurry.”
I rush to join her, dodging freed animals left and right. We’re at the cage of a rahilla; with the bars gone, I merely reach in and wake it with the wand. Then the next cage, and the next. Between us and Adombukar, we open every cage in the containment room, then stand at the far end of the room and look at everything we’ve done. Piles of white-clay dust have been spread across the floor by various paws and hooves, and the owners of those paws and hooves roam freely. I watch in awe as a gwabi and an igua—natural enemies—stand near each other, completely ignoring the other’s presence. They know there are bigger things at work here, I realize.
“So what’s your plan?” I say, turning to Alma. I hear the metallic clattering every minute or so: either the guards are breaking down the door or they had to bring Dr. Older from the Beak to reprogram the scanner. That could be why they took so long.
“Uh, well, not much of a plan. But maybe we, uh . . . wait for the door to open and then, you know, rush them.”
“Rush them?”
“They won’t be expecting it, right? They’re expecting us to keep running, and they probably think Adombukar’s still really weak. There’s no way they could know that the kawa was in the gwabi’s mouth, or they wouldn’t have been looking for it in the commune. They won’t be expecting all three of us to be mobile. We can rush them and maybe grab their guns.” She sees the shocked expression on my face and waves her hands. “No, no, we won’t use the guns! Just so they can’t use them. Then we make a break for it.”
I look at Adombukar, who has been listening impassively. His large starry eyes seem to glow. He says nothing, shows me nothing in the tunnel. It’s the only plan we’ve got. Ahead, the metallic clatter gets louder, the sounds closer together.
“Adombukar, can you . . . tell the animals our plan? I can show them, kind of, but you’re much better.”
“They know what to do,” he says.
I can only nod.
We stand in the scrub room, Alma in the doorway that connects it to the containment room so it stays open. Here, the sounds of someone working on the door are easier to hear. I’m fairly sure they brought Dr. Older: the sounds I hear aren’t brute smashes but mechanical noises that mean they’re fixing the scanner. I look behind me at the far end of the containment room and suddenly realize there are probably guards outside that door as well: waiting. I turn back to the door ahead. They’re in for a surprise. My muscles are taut, alert. When that door opens, we’ll make our move. In my head, the tunnel is wide and bright, buzzing pleasantly with the energy of all the conscious creatures around me. We’re all focused on one thing.
The door opens, and twenty guards crowd around the doorway, black mesh masks obscuring their faces. They never knew what hit them.
CHAPTER 29
Pandemonium.