Invasive by Chuck Wendig Page B

“Or as they call me, Barry Love .” He laughs big and bold: a kind of donkey bray. When nobody else laughs with him, he clears his throat into his fist and says, “Sorry. I’m head of the sustainable edible insect project and—”
    A flash of movement on his shoulder. A burst of green. Hannah pushes her chair back in startled surprise. It’s a praying mantis.
    Barry rolls his eyes and smiles in an aw-shucks way. With a lift of his finger he teases the mantis onto his hand. “This is Buffy.” The mantis tilts its alien head.
    â€œWell, hi,” Hannah says. All eyes are on her now. These people do not like her. They do not trust her. And, she reminds herself, one or more of them may be involved in creating those ants. She remembers a day way back when, after she left her parents and moved in with her aunt, Sugi, when nothing felt familiar, and the woman’s three dogs—two mastiffs and one Chihuahua—stared at her as if she were a trespasser whose smell did not belong. She’d waited for those animals to decide one day they would tear her apart. This feels very much like that. Better then to just cut to the chase. “So, what exactly is bullshit?” She remembers suddenly that Ray used the same word. Bullshit.
    Dr. Mercado—Nancy—seems surprised at her boldness, and then answers: “Your reason for being here. You really think we’re capable of doing what you’re implying? Creating a whole new ant species out of thin air is just not possible. Ask Ajay.”
    Dr. Bhatnagar barely moves his facial muscles when he breathes loudly through his nose and says, “We have focused on modifying ants to serve as a replacement pollinator. Ants indeed go fromflower to flower, and the fine hairs that cover many ants do indeed carry pollen.” His face shows a faint veneer of distaste as he adds, “Problem is, the kind of ants that would be best geared toward pollination often secrete a natural kind of antibiotic that damages the pollen and makes them inefficient pollinators. We tried to remove the antibiotic, but that makes them particularly susceptible to disease—and so the quest continues.” He offers a polite, sad smile before staring off into the middle distance.
    â€œWhat you found? Those ants?” Nancy says. “They were not engineered. That is foolishness. It’s a new species. It has to be a new species.”
    â€œThe ants had your signature genetic markers,” Hannah says. “The ones from the mosquito project. I brought the data with me on a USB. You can see for yourself.”
    â€œYour guy, Agent Copper, has already sent them ahead,” Kit says. She’s got a hint of a Jersey accent. “I’ll be honest: those look like our markers.”
    Nancy scowls. “ Looks like our markers doesn’t mean they are .”
    â€œAre they proprietary?” Hannah asks.
    â€œThey are,” Nancy answers.
    â€œCould they be stolen, then?”
    â€œImpossible.”
    â€œIm probable, ” Will says. “But that’s not the same as impossible. Wouldn’t take much to sneak.” To Hannah, he says with a small smirk, “We do not hire dummies, after all. A lot of those people sitting at those tables graduated from some of the best programs in the country—in the world .”

    After dinner, Hannah heads to the dorm they assign her and starts unpacking her bag.
    â€œHey, dorm buddy,” says a voice from the doorway. It’s Kit.
    â€œI can ask David if he can give me another bunk—”
    â€œPsssh.” Kit waves her off, then starts kicking off her Tevas. “My tiny messy bunk room is your tiny messy bunk room. A minor inconvenience that will surely reveal itself to be an unplanned delight. Besides, you’re out in a couple days, right? Out with the off-islanders?”
    â€œI am.” A reminder: I am on a time limit.
    â€œGood.”
    That word. A