Satellite observations confirmed the existence of a camp in the next valley. Philip dispatched an observation robot to gather more information. Drex was still sulking after spending two days in his room, but discipline had to be upheld in space, and he accepted that he had done the wrong thing and apologized publicly to everyone.

The worst thing was that he had to sign the Base Commander’s Log which recorded his offence and punishment. The fact that Philip was his father carried no weight. Drex had gone: ‘Absent without Leave for four hours, causing great alarm and distress to other members of the expedition.’ He knew that log entry would follow him through life until he died.

As the newly appointed base janitor, Drex had the responsibility of collecting all rubbish, and disposing of it in a large pit which he had to dig. Fortunately, he had the bulldozer to do that. He suspected that his father would have preferred him to dig it by hand with a shovel, but given the size of the hole and the nature of the ground, the bulldozer was a practical alternative. Fortunately, his new overalls were soft and comfortable, because as a secondary punishment, Philip had told him: "As you broke base discipline to get them, you can wear them until they rot off."

He retaliated by speaking to his father only when necessary, and preferably in words of one syllable - ‘yes’ or ‘no’. For the moment, the civil war between them was painfully obvious. Drex had lost his two new friends, and felt isolated from the rest of the crew.

"What the hell do I do with him?" Philip asked Betty.

"Perhaps you over-reacted," Betty said. "Give him time, and ignore his rudeness. If you try to bring him into line by making him call you ‘Sir’ or anything that he can see as authority, he’ll have something to kick at."

Most of the base activities now revolved around getting tissue samples from the trees that made up the forest. Drex was asked for the location of the overall tree. He decided to take Peter and Akron to its location. They took the light truck, preferring wheeled transport to flitters, because they intended to bring back a lot of specimens. The tree was situated in a small ravine below the surface of the surrounding plateau.

A stream of fresh water ran through it, and after they climbed down the tricky slope to the rock-strewn gully, they drank the clear warm water eagerly. Peter and Akron were amazed at the tree. They took samples of its bark and tissues, carefully placing their specimens in sterile bottles. Then they selected various pods from the tree, including immature ones and also some older pods from the ground. Peter collected kapok and seeds that were lying about. After a couple of trips, Peter declared that they had enough pods to outfit a couple of expeditions. They headed out of the valley by walking upstream, and passed the tree that had food spread over it. The tree had grown pods.

"It can’t be," Drex said, picking one of the pods and opening it. "It is. Look - custard."

"Better not eat it. Could be poisonous," Akron warned.

"That’s from placing a bit of food under the bark?" Peter asked.

"That’s all they did. Somehow the tree has replicated it." Drex replied.

"That’s not a genetic process, then," Akron said, "It’s replication. If the plant life can replicate things, people could live here without support - perhaps for centuries. It doesn’t explain the children, but we’ve got a lot to learn yet."

---0---

Back at base, they watched the camp via video link with the observation robots that were positioned in the hills overlooking the valley.

"The whole camp runs to a schedule," Philip said at the morning briefing. "That surprised us, because we assumed that six hundred boys would be running about playing games and creating mayhem. Their culture is almost - in fact, it is - military."

"Or penal," Akron said. "They’re following the same sort of routines that would occur in a prison. They wake, attend a muster - that’s where they get counted by the older boys and so on - then go to what looks like a mess hall. After that, they work - tidying the camp, digging it out, carrying out the sand. It looks as if all the work is being done by hand. They’re re-creating the prison down to the last detail."

"Where are the guards?" Julie asked.

"We think they must be invisible, or there aren’t any. The boys seem to be so well programmed they go about their routines without any direction. They’re like ants. There are some bigger - presumably older boys. They must be in control."

"It’s the logical conclusion," Betty said.

"Any sign of James or Kedron?" Drex asked.

Philip shook his head. "All the boys have a similarity about them, so it’s hard to tell. I wonder why those boys left the camp to come here in the first place."

"They were easy to catch, very compliant, did everything they were told to do, stayed over for the night and checked us out thoroughly." Betty ventured. "My guess is they were sent here. A sort of first contact, gathering intelligence. By the way, Drex. The stuff in the pod isn’t custard."

"Aw."

"But you can eat it. It’s non toxic, has a pleasant flavour, and contains sugars, minerals, vitamins, and fibre - all in a starchy gel. Off planet, you could probably sell it."

"So it’s a variation of the tree?" Julie asked.

"Yes. You can eat the soft parts of the tree if you’re hungry enough, and drink its juice. In fact, you could probably survive on it for a long time. What we’re finding is, that the tree is connected everywhere, is probably connected underground, and most likely represents one organism. However, it is capable of variety. The DNA is spread diffusely within the tissues, and seems to have enormous flexibility. It is somewhat like an organic computer waiting to be programmed."

Akron interrupted. "It is already programmed. It could even have intelligence. What worries me, is that organisms tend to protect their environment. We must remember that we are intruders."

"Yanada," Drex said. They talked about ‘Yanada’ - would that mean - the tree?"

"A universal, all providing and nurturing organism that encompasses everything." Philip mused. "We had that concept on Earth, but we called it Gaia. This is Gaia in a single plant - Yanada."

"We have to go to the camp. We must see the boys and question them further." Akron said.

"You’ll need to wear the overalls," Drex said.

"Don’t be silly," Peter said. "Whatever gave you that idea."

"I don’t know," Drex said. "It’s just an idea I had."

"I don’t think we could ‘blend in’ Drex. In that camp, we’ll stand out like sore thumbs by size alone." Julie said.

"Maybe it isn’t such a silly idea," Betty said. "If they were sent to communicate with us, they spent a lot of time showing Drex that one thing. The overalls must be important. Drex, how do you feel when you wear them?"

Drex thought about her question for a while. "They’re very soft," he said, "and they feel cool in the heat. I really like wearing them. They feel - like they’re part of me."

"That’s what I figured. They have a high contact component - a sort of tactile pheromone, as it were. They might bridge the gulf between us and them, somehow - psychologically reduce our threat to them. Maybe you can show us how to turn the pods into overalls, Drex."

"We brought back a lot of big ones," Drex said proudly, "so I’ll show you. It isn’t hard."

They spent the rest of the day getting their overalls from the pods, stripping the kapok from them, and wearing them while wet until they shrank to size. Philip was intrigued by the shoes. They spent the evening preparing for the expedition to the camp. It was decided that Philip, Akron, Peter, and Drex would be the first to make contact. Betty and Julie would stay at base, as it had to be manned at all times by at least two members of the expedition.

---0---

Philip parked the truck at the camp boundary which was marked by poles carrying the remnants of ancient razor wire. No work had been done to the fence, and anyone in the camp could have left at any time. The sun rose, bringing a fine warm day. The boys began to leave their dormitories and gather on the assembly ground.

"Action at last," Philip said.

They waited in plain sight while the boys went through their muster - under the control of the older boys - then marched off to the mess hall. Nobody took any notice of the visitors.

"Well. So much for being noticed," Peter commented wryly.

"Perhaps we should go in," Drex said. "Maybe we will find James or Kedron."

Philip flicked his arm-pad and locked the truck. It settled down onto the sand. "O.K. I don’t have any better ideas, so we’ll have a closer look."

They approached the mess hall as a group. Four boys came out and stood across their path. They stood at ease, with their hands clasped in front of them. One boy stood a little in front as if he was in charge.

"You must be Drex," the boy said. "Which one is Philip?"

"I’m Philip. This is Akron, and Peter."

"Akron, Peter. I am Mark. This is Chakra, Braxtos, and Zak."

"We are very pleased to meet you," Philip said. "We notice that there are no adults here. Who is in charge?"

Mark shrugged. "There are no adults, so I suppose I am in charge."

"We have come to explore this planet. It used to be a prison for men and boys a very long time ago."

"Yes. We know," Zak said.

"It was a very sad place. Terrible things happened here."

"We know that, too."

"Is it … I mean - How do you regard this place. As a prison?"

"No. This place is our home. We all live here. Yanada provides."

"Ah. The tree," Peter said. "Yanada is the forest, Yes?"

"Yanada is … " Mark broke off and looked at his companions. They muttered to each other for a few moments. "Yanada is the forest - and us. We are Yanada. The ground is Yanada. You are Yanada."

"The whole planet? We call it ‘New Sahara’."

"We know. In Imperial times, it was Penal Colony One Five Zero. Then it became ‘Stalag Terminal’ under the control of Division Zero, Commandant Krag the Terrible. After we defeated him, we called it ‘Yanada’ after the tree of life."

"You know more of its history than we do. Now it is owned by Gannon Corporation," Akron said.

Mark shook his head. "No. Yanada is owned by Yanada."

There was a sudden tension.

"I think we’ll discuss other things," Philip said pointedly, looking firmly at Akron, who took the hint and shut his mouth. "May we look around?"

"Yes, of course." Mark said. "This is our Mess Hall."

They went inside, and saw rows of tables, each holding ten places. The boys were eating porridge off wooden plates, but there was something else.

"It’s like our food. Look - the custard," Drex said.

"It is nice," Zak said.

"You get that from the tree, I suppose," Philip said.

"Of course. Yanada provides." Zak said.

"Where’s James and Kedro?" Drex asked. "You know, the boys who came to our base."

The four boys began a muttering session again. Finally Mark turned to him and said, "They are not here."

"Where are they?" Drex asked.

Mark shrugged. They got no further information about the two boys. Drex felt very frustrated. The lack of a normal human response was very noticeable. Nobody looked at them with curiosity. The boys finished their meal and left the room, leaving their four leaders to deal with the visitors.

"I don’t see any older boys, or adults. Where are your parents?" Akron asked.

"Do you want to see the training?" Zak asked.

Clearly, it was an attempt to deflect the question.

"Sure," Philip said. They went outside and watched as the boys sat around in a square. One went to the centre, and soon, a boy on the edge of the square stood up as if in challenge. He walked into the square and nodded. There was a brief scuffle, and the challenger was thrown on his back.

"Hey, Martial Arts," Drex said.

"Unarmed Combat. Marine training," Akron said. "I served my time during my mis-spent youth."

Drex whispered something to Philip who answered with a hard "No!" Peter chuckled.

"I’d like to look at the trees," Peter said. "The ones that provide you with food."

"And I’d like to see what the boys are digging up," Akron said. "I notice the shovels are wood. Don’t tell me - Yanada provides."

Philip and Akron walked over to the diggings with Mark and Braxtos. The boys were removing sand from the central control tower, shoveling it into bags, and carrying it on their backs to a large sand pile outside of the fence.

Peter and Drex went with Zak and Chakra to the lines of trees on the ocean side of the camp.

"You know the overall trees," Zak said. "These are the porridge trees, and the young trees over there make your food."

"We still don’t know how they do that," Peter said. "Apparently, you put a sample of what you want inside a tree, and then trees grow that are able to reproduce that substance."

Zak shrugged. "Yanada provides."

Drex caught a glimpse of Navy-blue deeper in the forest.

"Hey, I think that’s James. I recognize his overalls," He said, running towards what he had seen."

"No," Zak shouted. "Stay with us."

"Drex - Freeze!" Peter shouted.

Conditioned from an early age to obey that binding order, Drex stopped in his tracks, but nothing could prevent him from seeing what was bound to the thorn clad trees by thick fibrous strands of vegetation.

"Oh, no," Peter said, catching up with Drex and holding the shaking boy.

There were no bodies within the overalls. Huge spines had grown through them, and where they pushed through the fabric, dark brown stains were evident.

"Was that James, Zak? Was that Kedron? And don’t bullshit me!" Drex snapped.

"We go back to Camp. Now!" Zak said. He turned his back on them and, with Chakra at his side, walked firmly towards the fence line.

---0---

Betty looked at her console and watched as the two DNA profiles slid onto each other in a perfect match. She turned to Drex who sat watching the screen grim faced. There was no need to say anything. The samples matched perfectly. He stood up and walked to the door where Julie waited. She gave him a hug, and he responded, then swallowed and walked to his room.

"He’s taken it hard. He didn’t know them for long."

"I don’t think it’s grief over the boys, Betty, It goes deeper than that. His trust has been violated. What sort of … things …"

"Other cultures are a very complex system, Julie. We just don’t have the answers. All the evidence points to some sort of ritual sacrifice. It seems the boys were tied to the trees, and the thorns grew through them, killing them very slowly. The blood samples show massive levels of adrenaline and stress hormones. Bloodstains on the legs and arms were much older than those on the torso." She pointed to the overalls packed in plastic bags on the shelf. "Exudations on the garments show the victims voided abdominal contents, and analysis of the fabric shows massive absorption of perspiration and urine. Their heart muscles must have torn themselves to pieces with adrenaline shock. That is a very rare condition, Julie, and usually occurs only under extremes of torture."

"I’m going to ask Philip to act. If there’s nobody in charge there, and the boys are allowed to do what they like, things like this are bound to happen."

But Philip wasn’t about to be pushed into making any quick decisions. They held a meeting, with video link to ‘Arcadia’ so that George and Aster could be involved.

"Your report has been forwarded to Gannon," George reported, "And the galactic police have been informed. They can be onsite in four years. Sorry, Phil, but we are on a remote arm of this wheel."

"What do you think we should do, George?"

"Nothing at the moment. Don’t inflame the situation. There are more than five hundred boys out there and we don’t know what they’re capable of. Get back to basics, Phil. Rule seven in space - ‘If you don’t know what it is, don’t touch it.’"

"Rule eight is ‘Always check the outer door is closed before entering an airlock.’" Drex chipped in.

"Right, young fellow, and make sure your fly is closed before you step out into space."

Akron coughed. He had a strong dislike for informality. "Perhaps we should put more surveillance on them," He suggested. "That way, we can study them more."

"They destroyed the remote cameras after your visit. They’re not stupid." Aster said. "We can do low altitude photography. They haven’t any way of shooting down satellites yet."

"Yanada can’t provide blasters, fortunately," Philip said. "They could arm themselves with bows and arrows, crossbows, even. We don’t know the limits of their plant technology. At the same time, we can do massive damage to their precious trees and destroy their life support. But I don’t want to do that."

George’s face filled the screen. "Just how bad is the rift between the base and their camp, Phil? I mean - it might be better off in the long term if we try to build bridges and not try to make a bad situation worse."

"They didn’t like it when we took the overalls for forensic examination." Phil said. "Especially at the pointed end of a blaster."

"They were very blunt," Akron said. "What were the words Mark used? Get off Yanada or I will remove you. Yanada is mine."

"That makes it a territorial dispute, Phil," George said. "Maybe Gannon Corporation doesn’t have the clear title to New Sahara that it thinks it has."

"Distressing as these events are, it seems to me that we have no option but to back off and observe." Betty said. "We don’t know what we’re dealing with. I don’t see how we can impose an authoritarian regime of care. What if we tell them what to do, and they say ‘No’. Are you going to shoot them?"

"What are the possibilities, Betty? Can you give us any idea as to where these boys have come from, how old they are, and why none of them look more than twelve or thirteen years old?" Julie asked. It was clear that she favoured intervention in the boys’ camp.

"As a matter of fact, I do have a few theories:

"One, They are not boys, but very old men who have not aged. We are genetically engineered to travel in space, so why accept their age at face value?

"Two, They have been brought in to undermine Gannon Corporation’s attempts to turn Sahara into a resort. We all know that corporate skullduggery is rife in the Galaxy.

"Three, Some phenomenon is at work that we do not understand, but I suspect it is related to the ecology of Sahara and the clues lie in its unique history of human exploitation. This is the one I favour."

Julie interrupted her. "How could history change the evolution of the ecology so quickly. An ecology can be destroyed quickly, but you’re suggesting that it’s building up defences. That takes generations."

"I looked up the history of the camp during the Stalag period. There wasn’t much available, but the boys were terribly abused. They guards went as far as crucifixion, making bets on the longest survivor."

"Sexual assault?"

"No females, Men and boys imprisoned together - probably - almost certainly. The records mention ‘unspeakable acts’ but the details are brief. Remember that the prisoners rose up against their guards and defeated them."

"You mean - the boys took over the jail?"

"That’s what it says. They had help from Doctor Duro. I don’t know what his role would have been."

Akron broke in: "The psychopath produced the Duro Plague, so he could have done anything that’s genetically possible. Given the time and resources. That overall tree is no mean feat. I see you’ve changed your colours, Drex."

"These are new ones. Green. I prepared them last night."

The meeting didn’t reach a very satisfactory conclusion. It broke up when the video link with ‘Arcadia’ was lost as she dipped below the horizon. They continued to discuss things informally over coffee and nibbles. It was decided that the best course of action would be to mend their fences with the boys in the camp, but to keep their distance and not get too involved with any of them.

Which was easier said than done.

---0---

Drex continued his janitor duties on a voluntary basis because the job had to be done, and the others had more important work to do. It was a menial, but necessary part of expedition work. He had to dig a larger pit, so he put the bulldozer to work on automatic. It was a standard program which didn’t require supervision, so he downloaded it from his wrist ‘Predator’. He watched the machine at work for a while, then, satisfied that it was working to program, he went to collect the days rubbish. He could have ordered a robot to do the task, but he enjoyed the physical exertion of handling heavy objects and wheeling the hand-cart. Physical labor was engineered into base tasks. Sure it could all be done with robotics, but mankind had discovered aeons ago that the human body was designed for use and functioned better under load.