Thrive (The Overthrow, Band 3) - Softcover

Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

KENNETH OPPEL is one of the most highly regarded authors of middle-grade fiction writing today. Some of his best-known titles are Inkling,The Nest, Airborn, a 2005 Printz Honor Book, and Silverwing. Find him online at www.kennethoppel.ca and @KennethOppel.

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Chapter One 

High overhead, the winged cryptogen circled tightly, its golden wings glinting in the sunlight that shafted through the clouds. 

Anaya squinted up at it, stunned. This was the last thing she’d expected to emerge from the ship that had just crash-landed. Not a runner, or a swimmer, but a flyer. 

The enemy. 

Where was Terra? Or maybe there had never been a Terra, or any rebels, and she’d been mistaken all along. Why had she trusted them? 

She’d stupidly thought this was going to be a peaceful encounter between humans and three cryptogen rebels, to form an alliance. To work together and make a weapon that would defeat their mutual enemy. 

That was a fantasy, a lie, and it was her fault. 

Terrified, she watched the flyer face off with the helicopter that had fired the missile. The spiky crest on the creature’s helmet shimmered with a sickly violet light and emanated an ominous whine. Even all the way down here, Anaya heard it. Everyone around her winced at the sound: Seth, Petra, Dr. Weber, Colonel Pearson, the lone soldier. She knew that whine could swell at any moment, to crush people and decimate buildings. 

“Why is there a flyer?” Pearson shouted at her. 

“I don’t know!” 

“Is that helmet a weapon?”

“Yes!” 

“They said they’d come unarmed!” 

--You attacked! 

This voice had never been inside Anaya’s head. Definitely it was not Terra’s. It came from the flyer. The words carried an angry whiff of gasoline and had a jagged metallic taste like she’d just bitten her own tongue. 

--It was a mistake! she called back desperately, and hoped the flyer believed her anguished words. 

“Don’t fire!” she shouted at Pearson, suddenly hopeful. “I’m talking to it.” 

“Tell the flyer to stand down!” Pearson barked. 

Anaya didn’t think they were in any position to give orders. 

“We fired first! We promised we wouldn’t! Get the helicopter out of here!” 

Pearson said nothing. It was a standoff, and all it would take was for the helicopter to open fire again, and the flyer would destroy it--and then the rest of them on the ground. 

Suddenly the noise from the flyer’s helmet evaporated, and the flyer turned away from the helicopter. 

“Look!” Petra shouted. 

She wasn’t pointing into the air, but at the smoldering cryptogen ship on the field. From the hatch a second creature was emerging. At first it looked so much like a human astronaut that it took Anaya a moment to realize the creature was wearing a synthetic white skin that covered almost its entire body. 

From the hood protruded a furred face that tapered into a long muzzle. Fitted across its large nostrils was a breathing mask, with tubing that fed into a slim pack on its back. Earth air wasn’t right for these cryptogens, not yet. The creature stood tall on its two powerful legs, then took a step across the field toward Anaya. 

In her mind, she saw a flare of familiar amber light, smelled damp soil--and instantly felt a flood of recognition, and relief. This was the person whose voice had filled her head so many times over the past days. And now here she was. Suddenly Anaya’s cheeks were damp with tears of relief. 

“It’s Terra!” she told everyone. 

“You’re sure?” Petra asked. 

Instinctively, Anaya was walking closer, to greet her. 

--You promised you would not attack! 

Terra’s silent words vibrated with bewilderment and hurt, but also anger. 

--I’m sorry! Anaya replied. It was one soldier, acting alone. We didn’t order it! 

She felt a stab of guilt that she’d been so quick to lose faith in Terra. Still, the sight of the flyer had been so shocking, so terrifying, what else could she think? 

“Keep your distance, Anaya,” she heard the colonel say. 

“It’s fine,” Anaya said. 

Nonetheless, she stopped a little distance away from Terra. The two of them regarded each other. Even in her white suit, Terra bore an uncanny resemblance to a kangaroo. A kangaroo without a tail. Her thighs were massive, and the lower half of her legs very skinny, almost bonelike. Long toes stuck through the synthetic white skin, and Anaya took in the wickedly sharp black claws--they made her own look puny. 

--Are we safe? Terra asked her. 

“Anaya, are you talking to them?” Pearson bellowed. 

“They want to know if they’re safe! You should get the helicopter to land!” 

“Not with that flyer still airborne!” 

--Why is there a flyer? Anaya asked Terra. You didn’t tell me there was a flyer! 

--He is a rebel, like us. 

Was it a lie? But as always, everything that passed into her head from Terra felt like the truth. She took a big breath and turned to Pearson. 

“The flyer’s a rebel, too. It’s safe!” 

Anaya couldn’t make out Pearson’s expression, but she guessed it was annoyance. Nonetheless, he spoke into his radio and said, “Stand down.” 

Immediately, the helicopter tilted and headed back to Deadman’s Island. 

--You’re safe, Anaya told Terra, and saw her shiver. Are you cold? 

The sky had darkened with clouds, and Anaya smelled rain. But with her own thick hair, she was still perfectly warm, sometimes too warm, now that it was summer. 

--Your atmosphere is cold, for us. These skins help keep us warm. 

As always, Anaya understood more than just Terra’s individual words. Skins meant the white fabric she wore. It was some kind of microfiber that regulated her body temperature. After so many early, clumsy conversations with Terra, the two of them had somehow forged a common mental language, like a forest path that got easier the more it was walked. 

Terra made a sound that Anaya realized was a sneeze. 

--Are you sick? Anaya asked worriedly. 

--Allergic. 

Of course! Terra had the same kind of allergies Anaya had suffered from all her life. It was strange, imagining the cryptogens having weaknesses, but this was not their world. Not their air, or sun, or pollen. 

--Where is the third rebel? Anaya asked. 

--There. 

And as Anaya watched, another cryptogen emerged from the ship.

Petra hated it instantly. 

It walked on all fours. The head that jutted from its weird white bodysuit was long and sloping, like an alligator’s. Maybe a dolphin’s--if she was being super kind. Its eyes were set way back. She couldn’t see ears. Its feet had long webbed toes. From its rear end curled a long tail. When its mouth opened, Petra saw sharp teeth. 

Like the runner cryptogen, the swimmer had a mask fixed over its nostrils, which were slit-like holes in front of its eyes. When its gaze locked with hers, Petra looked away. She didn’t want to talk to it. She was scared its words would appear inside her head. 

When the missile had hit the cryptogens’ ship, she’d been shocked, but hopeful, too. She wanted them destroyed. And then when she saw the flyer--she feared that she and all her friends had been lured here to die. 

She still felt far from safe. Her eyes darted between the three cryptogen species. She remembered those pictures in Seth’s sketchbook,...