Destination Unknown by Katherine Applegate Read Free Book Online

rounds, everyone desperately thirsty. Only Yago drank too deeply, swallowing more than his share.

    “Maybe that water in the river is drinkable,” Shy Hwang suggested. “And there may be edible fruit around.”

    “If I may . . .” Violet began again.

    “None of the food on board survived,” Olga said. “Not in any edible form, anyway. There’s some powdery residue in some of the freeze-dried packs, but I doubt there’s any nutritive value.”

    “Great, so we starve?” Yago said.

    “Let’s get down to the ground, then we can see what’s what,” Jobs said. “Who’s next?”

    “I’ll stay,” Errol said. “So we can see about belaying this cable in such a way as we can use it to run a bosun’s chair up and down to ferry the weak and the wounded.” He glanced at Billy Weir, who had been propped into a sitting position. His undead eyes stared out across the landscape below.

    “And the dead folks,” Jobs said. “Sooner or later I guess we’ll have to get all these people down and bury them.” Jobs continued, “I’ll stay here with you, Errol. I can work on the bosun’s chair. We have some tools now, from the chest. I can strip panels from the bulkheads and make a frame from decking.”

    He actually seemed mildly excited by the project. A true techie, Violet thought with distaste. One of those people.

    “I wish I knew what was down there,” Shy Hwang said. “It’s so . . . there could be anything. Wild animals, deadly snakes, things we haven’t even thought of.”

    “If I may . . .” Violet said a third time.

    “What? You want to say something, Jane?” 2Face snapped at her.

    “If I may, I was going to offer some reassurance. I doubt you’d find wild beasts in early-twentieth-century France.”

    2Face stared at her. “Uh-huh. Well, thanks for the update on France.” She shot a look to Jobs, a look suggesting the possibility that Violet was crazy, possibly dangerously so.

    “I believe this landscape was derived from a painting. Monet or Bonnard, I think.”

    “What are you talking about?” Olga demanded.

    “The gray-shade is derived from an Ansel Adams photograph. Or at least from someone mimicking Adams’s style. The detail can only be photographic. But this sky, this meadow, that river are all clearly derived from a painting. Pierre Bonnard was a —”

    “She’s right!” Yago cried. “It’s a painting. It’s not even real. We’ve been worrying about a painting.”

    “Mo’s walking around down there,” Jobs pointed out. “It’s not flat. It’s not a painting.”

    “I suggested it was derived from a painting, not that it is a painting,” Miss Blake said patiently. “I think it’s likely that whoever created this place used an Adams photo and an Impressionist painting to . . . to imagine . . . these environments.”

    “Who are you talking about?” Shy Hwang asked.

    Violet was feeling a bit put out. They were staring at her accusingly. She was flustered and couldn’t think of a ready answer.

    “Aliens?” Jobs whispered.

    “Well, someone ,” Miss Blake said. “Surely you see that this meadow and this gray-shade canyon, not to mention that sky, did not occur naturally.”

    “Aliens,” Jobs said more confidently now. “That’s how the ship came to be standing upright. That’s what happened. We didn’t land. We were captured.”

    “Captured by art lovers?” 2Face demanded, incredulous.

    “Most likely that this was done for our benefit,” Violet suggested. “Perhaps the aliens are merely trying to be polite.”

    Jobs said, “We found a rack of DD’s—data disks — in the lockers, along with the tools and the decayed food.”

    “Presumably an effort on NASA’s part to keep alive some portion of the human cultural legacy,” Shy Hwang suggested.

    “Including art?” 2Face wondered. “Fine, but you’re saying someone created this environment for us? Using the DD’s? How? The data was in the locker. It