Sluggish fish with large fins clustered around the roots. A group of men were hunting them with spears, and a woman warned, “Don’t take more than sixteen.”
When an animal was collected, the hunter folded his hands and said, “Praise Gaia for this gift of food.”
“They are praying,” said Listen.
“They don’t act like scientists,” said Cienfuegos. He glanced up at the ceiling. “We don’t have much time, so let’s keep moving.” Listen said she was tired, and he lifted her to his shoulders. “If you pull my ears, you’re getting dumped,” he warned just as she reached out to do exactly that.
Next was Sub-Saharan Africa. Giant trees, hung with vines, alternated with grasslands dotted with acacia trees. Antelopes lifted their heads and watched as they passed. “Are there lions here?” whispered Listen, as though speaking aloud might attract them.
“I hope not,” said Cienfuegos. “I think the main predator here is man. Dr. Rivas said this place wasn’t an exact copy of the real world, only an ecosystem that could exist permanently on its own. Its purpose was to create the Scorpion Star, and I don’t think they’ve got lions and grizzly bears up there.”
Butterflies as big as Listen’s hand flapped by, and praying mantises the size of mice swayed drunkenly back and forth as they hunted. “So this is Africa.” The little girl sighed. Guinea fowl scrabbled in the underbrush, and three-foot-long lizards flicked their tongues at the intruders. Cienfuegos put the little girl down and warned her not to touch anything without asking first. But he needn’t have worried. The little girl was cowed by the size and variety of animals around her.
A guinea fowl came right up to Matt’s feet and pecked around his toes. “It isn’t afraid,” he said. He bent down to pet it, and it pecked his hand.
A group of women approached them. One consulted a small calculator and said, “Praise Gaia! There are two excess guinea fowl.” Immediately, the others pounced on two birds and wrung their necks.
“Meat!” they exulted, raising their hands to the ceiling. “Meat!” They danced around with the two dead guinea fowls.
“Gaia has given us food,” shouted the woman with the calculator. “Gaia is great!”
“Join with us, Sister,” cried one of the women, taking Mirasol’s hand. The eejit obediently joined the circle and copied what the others were doing.
“Let’s get out of here,” whispered Listen, but Matt hesitated. Mirasol looked no different from the other women, swaying, clapping, and singing praises to Mother Earth. No one had noticed that she wasn’t normal. He wished then that she could stay here forever, but they would soon discover that she could do nothing on her own. He took her hand and led her away.
They hurried through this building because the heat was really unbearable. But the Mushroom Forest was just as warm, and the air was heavy with the smell of fungi. It was also fairly dark. White, brown, orange, and luminous green mushrooms sprouted on every side. A group of teenagers, swathed in gauze masks, were harvesting while others scooped up the soil the plants had grown in.
An old man with white hair rushed up to the visitors. “Hey! You’re not wearing masks.” He thrust four at them. “If you’re not careful, you’ll grow a little mushroom forest of your own inside your lungs.”
“Mil gracias, señor,” said Cienfuegos. “We didn’t know there was a danger.” He quickly fastened a mask over Listen’s nose, and Matt did the same for Mirasol. “This is a most unusual place, sir. I would be most honored if you would tell me about it.”
The white-haired man seemed pleased by his interest. “You are obviously a person of intelligence,” he replied. “These young ones”—he waved his hand at the teenagers—“are newly awakened from Dormancy and have the brains of rabbits. Not,” he hastened to say, “that I have anything against rabbits. All Gaia’s creatures are blessed.”
He proceeded to list the name of each fungus and what its specialty was. “These,” he said, “are Shaggy Manes.” Matt looked out over a sea of white humps covered with tattered fringes. “They’re experts at killing E. coli, which gives you the runs, and Staph aureus, which makes you grow pimples. They munch them up like candy. Wonderful plants!” The man’s enthusiasm was contagious, and Matt couldn’t help smiling at him. “You look as though you could use a little of their help,” the man said, smiling back.
Matt self-consciously ran his hand over the remnants of the acne he’d acquired at the plankton factory.