But I doubted he could see the way it was looking at me, the threat I saw in its eyes. I didn’t think I could just wait for it to go away. It seemed like it was looking for a fight.
I picked up a nearby rock and brandished it at the baboon. Now I was razor-focused on the beast, blocking out all other sights and sounds.
“Back up!” I shouted. The creature screeched in response, but didn’t move away. I waved the rock at it again, more threateningly this time.
“Don’t do anything!” my dad ordered, but I didn’t listen—couldn’t listen. He wasn’t out here—he didn’t see how dangerous this beast was. “Kitai, no!”
“Get out of here!” I yelled as loud as I could, hoping to scare the thing away.
I heard my dad cry, “Kitai, stop!” but it was too late. I had already released the rock, which just barely hit the baboon. I wasn’t trying to hurt it—I just wanted it to get away from me.
“You are creating this situation,” Dad said. “Be still.” I knew he could see my vitals skyrocketing, but I thought my way had worked.
Then a bunch of baboons burst out of the brush, their bloodcurdling war cries echoing through the forest. “Cadet, get control of yourself!” my dad shouted. “Listen to my instructions!”
With the creatures surrounding me, I tapped a pattern on the cutlass’s handle. The fibers at its ends retracted into the handle and disappeared. I stared at it in shock. That wasn’t at all what I had wanted. Looking up, I saw the baboons closing in. Panicked, I tapped out another pattern. The handle separated to form two batons. That would do. I swung them all around me to fend off the beasts. But they jumped out of range, then advanced again.
“To your rear, Cadet!” my dad shouted. “Out to your rear!”
Glancing behind me, I saw the opening my dad had seen and made a break for it. I attached the cutlass to my back and ran as fast as I could. The baboons chased me while I darted through the forest. Good thing I’m fast. I leapt from rock to rock and sprinted through the dense forest, outrunning them.
But then they swung into the trees and started gaining on me. That was one technique I couldn’t match. They grabbed large pinecones from the trees and hurled them down at me. More of them were joining the chase every second. I counted ten, then twenty, then fifty of the creatures, all swinging and jumping through the trees, all throwing things at me. Somehow I managed to dodge everything they threw. Guess baboons don’t have great aim. But eventually, one of them was bound to get in a lucky shot. A giant pinecone struck me square in the back, and I stumbled before turning the motion into a forward roll and springing back to my feet.
“Cross the river, Cadet!” my dad called over the noise of the chase. “I repeat, cross the river!”
I stopped short when I reached the bank of a raging river. The water was rougher than I had expected, but with the creatures screeching close behind me, I had no choice. I dove in.
From the shore, all fifty baboons continued throwing branches and pinecones after me, the water exploding around me with their projectiles. I was a strong swimmer, but bobbing in and out of the water to dodge their attacks was wearing me out fast. I gulped water, then burst back to the surface. I looked back, trying to see whether they were gaining on me, but there was water in my eyes and I couldn’t get a clear view.
“Cadet, they are no longer in pursuit,” my dad said.
Although I heard his words, they didn’t sink in. Reaching the other side of the river, I scrambled out of the water and fled.
I noticed that my lifesuit had turned back to a rust color, but I wasn’t convinced that everything was okay. “I say again, they are not following you,” my dad repeated.
I didn’t believe him. I ran as fast as I could, every noise in the trees driving me to go even faster and farther, certain that the beasts were closing in on me. “Cadet, you are not being followed!” he insisted. “Kitai, you are running from nothing!”
Reaching a clearing, I slowed to pull out the cutlass. I executed a 360-degree turn, bracing myself to fight off whatever came at me.
“Put my cutlass away,” my dad ordered. “Take a knee, Cadet.”
I finally obeyed, dropping to one knee, panting. My eyes were wide, darting frantically around the clearing; I was terrified that another attack was coming.
“If you want to die today, that’s fine. But you are not going to kill me today. You are not out here by yourself. Everything you do affects me. I see right now that you do not have the intelligence to think for yourself, so I will be your brain. You do not think.” I wanted to nod, but I felt foggy, frozen in place. He was right. I couldn’t think. It would be a relief not to have to.
“Kitai, I need you to do a physical assessment,” my dad said. I registered the concern in his voice and thought that was nice until he said, “I’m showing rapid blood contamination. Are you cut?”
I’d been fighting, running, swimming—but I hadn’t been cut. I would’ve remembered that. Curled in on myself, I noticed that my lifesuit had turned white. I didn’t know what white meant.
“Kitai, I need you to do a physical evaluation! Are you bleeding?” His stern voice broke through my shock.
Slowly I started doing an assessment, but when I tried to stand, I staggered, off balance.
“Kitai?” my dad asked, the concern there again.
“I’m dizzy,” I said. The words didn’t sound right to me. My lips felt swollen.
“Check yourself,” he insisted. I looked down at my hands and saw a giant leech-like parasite attached to my left hand. I ripped it off, disgusted, and flung it away. But it tore my skin as I did, and a nasty rash bloomed where the thing had been.
“Open your med kit, Kitai.” My dad’s voice was ultra-calm.
I reached for my backpack, but I was so tired, and it was just out of reach. Gathering all my strength, I scooted forward and managed to loop my finger around it. “I can’t stand up,” I muttered. My fingers felt thick, and I fumbled with the med kit before finally managing to open it.
“You have to administer the antitoxin in sequence,” my dad said, his tones smooth and comforting. “Inject yourself with the clear liquid first.” I nodded, staring at the syringe, but couldn’t remember how to use it. “Do it now!” he shouted when I paused too long, breaking his calm to get my attention.
It worked. I popped the protective cap off the first hypodermic needle. My hands shook, but that wasn’t my biggest problem. “Dad,” I said. “I can’t see.”
“The poison is affecting your nervous system,” he explained. “Relax. Stay even.”
I didn’t see how relaxing would help when I was going blind. I fumbled with the needle, my eyes swelling shut. I knew I couldn’t afford to panic, but I couldn’t help it. “Dad, please come help me,” I cried out like a little kid. I knew it was impossible, but it was also impossible for me to save myself. “I can’t see! Please come help me!”
“Stay even!” he insisted. “Inject yourself directly into the heart with the first stage now!”
Taking a deep breath, I stabbed the needle into my chest and pressed the plunger down.
“Now the second stage,” Dad said. “Hurry.”
Fumbling blindly, I searched the med kit for the next needle.
“Your left, to your left!” Dad called. I was grateful that the video feed was still working.
After what felt like way too long, I found the second hypodermic. My eyes were completely swollen shut now, my hands shaking, but I managed to remove the needle’s cap by feel. I stuck the needle in, but my thumb wouldn’t move to press the plunger down. “I can’t feel my hands! I can’t…”
Darkness rolled over me in waves, but I fought to stay conscious. As I fell to my knees, I heard my dad say, “Press it into the ground! Kitai, roll over on it and press it into the ground!”