Of course, no one was parked up here. There were no cars dropping people off, either. Late April was not the height of the physical tourist season—and for Torrey Pines Park, that was the only kind of tourist season there was.
They were just barely above the fog layer. The tops of the clouds fluffed out below them, into the west. On a clear day, there would have been a great direct view of the ocean. Now there were just misty shapes tossed up from the fog and above that, a sky of deepening twilight blue. There was still a special brightness at the horizon, where the sun had set. Venus hung above that glow, along with Sirius and the brighter stars of Orion.
Juan hesitated. "That's strange."
"What?"
"I've got mail." He set a pointer in the sky for the others to see: a ballistic FedEx package with a Cambridge return address. It was coming straight down, and from very high up.
At about a thousand feet, the mailer slowed dramatically, and a sexy voice spoke in Juan's ear. "Do you accept delivery, Mr. Orozco?"
"Yes, yes." He indicated a spot on the ground nearby.
All this time, William had been staring into the sky. Now he gave a little start and Juan guessed the guy had finally seen Juan's pointer. A second after that, the package was visible to the naked eye: a dark speck showing an occasional bluish flare, falling silently toward them.
It slowed again at ten feet, and they had a glimpse of the cause of the light: dozens of tiny landing jets around the edge of the package. Animal rights campaigners claimed the micro-turbines were painfully loud to some kinds of bats, but to humans and even dogs and cats, the whole operation was silent.... until the very last moment: Just a foot off the ground, there was a burst of wind and a scattering of pine needles.
"Sign here, Mr. Orozco," said the voice.
Juan did so and started toward the mailer. William was already there, kneeling awkwardly. The Goofus spazzed at just the wrong instant and lurched forward, putting his knee through the mailer carton.
Miri rushed over to him. "William! Are you okay?"
William rolled back on his rear and sat there, massaging his knee. "Yes, I'm fine, Miriam. Damn." He glanced at Juan. "I'm really sorry, kid." For once, he didn't sound sarcastic.
Juan kept his mouth shut. He squatted down by the box: it was a standard twenty-ounce mailer, now with a big bend in the middle. The lid was jammed, but the material was scarcely stronger than cardboard, and he had no trouble prying it open. Inside ... he pulled out a clear bag, held it up for the others to see.
William leaned forward, squinting. The bag was filled with dozens of small, irregular balls. "They look like rabbit droppings to me."
"Yes. Or health food," said Juan. Whatever they were, it didn't look like William's accident had done them any harm.
"Toad Vomit! What are you doing here?" Miriam's voice was sharp and loud.
Juan looked up and saw a familiar figure standing beside the mailer. Bertie. As usual, he had a perfect match on the ambient lighting; the twilight gleamed dimly off his grin. He gave Juan a little wave. "You can all thank me later. This FedEx courtesy link is only good for two minutes, so I have just enough time to clue you in." He pointed at the bag in Juan's hand. "These could be a big help once you get in the park."
Miri: "You don't have any time. Go away!"
Juan: "You're trashing our local exam just by being here, Bertie."
Bertie looked from from one indignant face to the other. He gave Miri a little bow, and said, "You wound me!" Then he turned to Juan: "Not at all, my dear boy. The exam proctors don't show you as embargoed. Technically, you haven't started your local exam. And I'm simply calling to check in with my loyal unlimited team member—namely you."
Juan ground his teeth. "Okay. What's the news?"
Bertie's grin broadened to slightly wider than humanly possible. "We've made great progress, Juan! I lucked out with the Siberian group—they had just the insight Kistler was needing. We've actually built prototypes!" He waved again at the bag in Juan's hand. "You've got the first lot." His tone slipped into persuasion mode. "I'm not on your local team, but our unlimited exam is concurrent, now isn't it, Juan?"
"Okay." This was extreme even for Bertie. I bet he had the prototypes ready this afternoon!
"So we need these ‘breadcrumbs' tested, and since I noticed that my loyal team-mate is incidentally on a field trip through Torrey Pines Park, well, I thought ..."
Miri glared at the intruder's image. "So what have you stuck us with? I've got my own plans here."
"Totally organic network nodes, good enough to be field-tested. We left out the communication laser and recharge-capability, but the wee morsels have the rest of the standard function suite: basic sensors, a router, a localizer. And they're just proteins and sugars, no heavy metals. Come the first heavy rain, they'll be fertilizer."
Miri came over to Juan and popped open the plastic bag. She sniffed. "These things stink ... I bet they're toxic."
"Oh, no," said Bertie. "We sacrificed a lot of functionality to make them safe. You could probably eat the darn things, Miri." Bertie chuckled at the look on her face. "But I suggest not; they're kind of heavy on nitrogen compounds....
Juan stared at the little balls. Nitrogen compounds? That sounded like the summary work Juan had done earlier this semester! Juan choked on outrage, but all he could think to say was, "This—this is everything we were shooting for, Bertie."
"Yup." Bertie preened. "Even if we don't get all the standard function suite, our share of the rights will be some good money." And a sure A grade on the unlimited exam. "So. Juan. These came off the MIT organo-fab about three hours ago. In a nice clean laboratory, they work fine. Now how about if you sneak them into the park, and give them a real field test? You'll be serving your unlimited team at the same time you're working on your local project. Now, that's concurrency."
"Shove off, Bertie," said Miri.
He gave her a little bow. "My two minutes are almost up, anyway. I'm gone." His image vanished.
Miri frowned at the empty space where Bertie had been. "Do what you want with Bertie's dungballs, Juan. But even if they're totally organic, I'll bet they're still banned by park rules."
"Yes, but that would just be a technicality, wouldn't it? These things won't leave trash."
She just gave an angry shrug.
William had picked up the half-crushed mailing carton. "What are we going to do with this?"
Juan motioned him to set it down. "Just leave it. There's a FedEx mini-hub in Jamul. The carton should have enough fuel to fly over there." Then he noticed the damage tag floating beside the box. "Caray. It says it's not airworthy." There were also warnings about flammable fuel dangers and a reminder that he, Juan Orozco, had signed for the package and was responsible for its proper disposal.
William flexed the carton. Empty, the thing was mostly plastic fluff, not more than two or three pounds. "I bet I could bend it back into its original shape."
"Um," Juan said.
Miri spelled things out for the Goofus: "That would probably not work, William. Also, we don't have the manual. If we broke open the fuel system ..."
William nodded. "A good point, Miriam." He slipped the carton into his bag, then shook his head wonderingly. "It flew here all the way from Cambridge."
Yeah, yeah.
The three of them resumed their walk down to the ranger station, only now they were carrying a bit more baggage, both mental and physical. Miri grumbled, arguing mainly with herself about whether to use Bertie's gift.