he needs—some kind of portable hospital?” I said. “We can’t risk keeping him here. If the Massa find him, they’ll torture him for information. I can give you a walkie-talkie if you need one.”
“I have my own,” Dr. Bradley said wearily. “I can reach Fiddle. I suppose this is our only choice.”
“Professor Bhegad,” Aly said, gently brushing a strand of wispy white hair from his forehead, “Dr. Bradley is going to take you away from here. Have the Massa taken the Loculi?”
“N … no …” Professor Bhegad shook his head and turned shakily toward Torquin. “They are in … location D … Go now … keep them safe.”
“Is that the same as Building D, the control center?” Aly asked.
“Not Building D,” Torquin said. “Location D.”
“Which is …?” I prodded.
“Dump,” Torquin replied.
* * *
The smell and the Song hit me at the same time.
We were in a Jeep that Torquin had stolen at the edge of the compound. Well, stolen isn’t really the right word. It belonged to the KI, but two Massa guys were in it until Torquin pulled them out and threw them against a tree. Now we were careening across the airfield toward the Karai Institute landfill, aka dump. My head felt light, as if something had crawled into my brain. Not a sound, exactly, but a vibration that began in my ears and spread throughout my body. “I’m feeling it,” I said. “The Song of the Heptakiklos. That means the Loculi are nearby.”
“It sbells like subthigg died here.” Aly was holding her nose. The stench was acrid, foul, and growing fast as the Jeep pulled up to a smoking hill. “I’ll stay in the car.”
“Big help,” I replied, climbing out the backseat.
I held the end of my too-long sleeve over my nose, but Torquin was breathing normally. “Nice place,” he mumbled. “Come here to meditate.” We stopped in front of an enormous compost pile, which he carefully examined with his flashlight. Then, barehanded, he began digging out blackened banana peels, hairy mango pits, and globs of wilted vegetables.
The Loculi, it seemed, were buried in a pile of garbage.
Behind us, distant shouts resounded from the jungle. I squinted but all I could see was a small area around me, lit by moonlight and an old, dim streetlamp. Torquin turned, quickly handing me the flashlight. “Pah. Massa. I distract. You continue. Find door. Code is FLUFFY AND FIERCE.”
“But—” He stalked away before I could say another word.
I stared at the mound of rotten food and nearly puked. But the voices were getting closer, and they did not sound happy.
There was one spot that looked as if the garbage had been stirred around recently. I hoped it was the right spot, and not just some jungle animal’s favorite snack location. Holding my breath, I thrust my hand into the goop. It was clammy and cold. My fingers slipped. I felt a rodent scampering out from underneath, nearly running across my shoes.
Keep going …
My wrists were covered now. Liquid dribbled down my arm. Each movement brought a fresh whiff of horribleness.
There.
My knuckles knocked on something hard. Guided by my flashlight in one hand, I used the other hand to fling away big gobs until I could see a kind of hatch within:
“JACK … WHAT ARE you doigg?” Aly cried out, racing toward me from the Jeep. “Torquid’s holdigg off sub Bassa. Do subthigg.”
I gestured toward the filthy screen. “Torquin said the code was ‘fluffy and fierce.’”
“We’ve seed those words before,” Aly said. “Whedd we first got to the isladd, I foud Torquid’s pass code id the codtrol buildigg—‘all thiggs fluffy and fierce.’ How does that help with this—‘Epic fail’? How cadd you fail before you evedd try? Add why ‘you rodett’? Add what’s with the LCD screed?”
“I don’t know!” I said. “Maybe it’s some kind of code. You’re the code person!”
The voices were getting louder. It sounded like Torquin was arguing.
“If it’s a code,” Aly said, “you should be able to edter subthigg. With a keyboard or dubber pad.”
Keyboard. Number pad.
I stared at the message closely. “The letters are in squares,” I said. “It looks like a keyboard.”
“But it’s dot,” Aly said, looking nervously over her shoulder. “It’s a bessage! Hagg odd. Let bee look at it …”
Together we stared at the dumb, insulting thing. I wasn’t seeing the words now, just the letters. They were swirling around in my head, arranging and rearranging. There was something about them …
I reached out and touched the F of Fail. The LCD screen changed.
“What did you just do?” Aly said.
“Fluffy and fierce …” I murmured, quickly spelling out the words—pressing the L of Fail, the U of You, the F of Fail twice, and so on … “I’m just tapping the letters, spelling out the words.”
“It would’t be that sibple!” Aly insisted.
The door beeped. I jumped back. “It’s a keyboard!”
Aly swallowed hard. “Subtibes,” she said, “it’s a gift to be sibple …”
I pushed hard on the door, but it didn’t budge.
“You’re dot puttigg your weight idto it!” Aly said.
“You try,” I said.
Aly recoiled. “Doe way!”
I pounded again. I could hear voices getting louder. Aly and I both turned to see Torquin arguing with three Massa. I shut off my flashlight, leaned back, then thrust my shoulder into the door.
A thick cake of hardened, putrid glop fell away, revealing a door handle in the shape of a pull-down lever.
Grabbing it in my slippery hand, I yanked it down. The door creaked open, outward. I thrust my flashlight
