Anna gazed out the bus window and watched the switchgrass and yellow wildflowers pass by in a blur. She was one of the last students on the bus. The end of the route. In the distance, irrigation lines sprayed giant jets of water that caught the afternoon light in bands of color. The fields were freshly plowed with only a hint of green from budding new plants. Dirt fields. Brown, orderly, and neat compared to the carpet of varying green colors that blanketed her uncle’s fields. As the bus neared the lane leading to her home, Anna saw her uncle at the end of the road, leaning on his dirt bike with his arms folded and legs crossed.
A grin spread across Uncle Jack’s face as the bus doors opened. He nodded in greeting to the bus driver then took several steps forward and handed Anna a motorcycle helmet. The bus pulled away with the rumble of a diesel engine, grinding gears, and a cloud of dust.
“Hop on back.” Uncle Jack motioned toward his motorcycle. “We’ve got some work to do.”
Anna placed her arms around Uncle Jack’s waist as he sped down the dirt road that led to the house. He shouted back that she was a good passenger and that she knew how to lean with the bike, but she could only hear every other word over the whine of the motorcycle’s engine. Her eyes watered, and small bugs smacked against her face more than once, but Anna felt free, like she was flying.
Instead of heading toward the house, they took off down a dirt road carved with deep ruts from an earlier rain toward the edge of the woods where Anna had seen the lights the night before. The dirt road veered to the left then ran parallel to the woods for a half mile until it reached a sloping hill. As they made their way to the top of the hill, a span of water came into view:
"Tyson Lake,” Uncle Jack said as he pointed straight ahead. “It’s been around since the ice age. When I was a kid I used to imagine wooly mammoths walking around here.”
The lake was small enough for her to swim across if she tried hard enough—but it had a network of inlets that doubled the size of the shoreline. Woods and large boulders framed most of the water’s western shore, and farm fields and meadows lined the north.
Uncle Jack coasted downhill to a grassy clearing and parked the bike just beneath a cottonwood tree. The motor ticked to a stop as Anna hopped off and stretched her legs. Uncle Jack removed the bungee cords that held a small toolbox in place behind the seat and then handed the toolbox to Anna.
“See that sensor station over there?” He pointed toward a wooden post with a square green box bolted to its side about fifteen feet away. It looked like an overgrown bird feeder. “Let’s see if you can replace the circuit board.”
Anna opened the toolbox and found two identical circuit boards wrapped in plastic, a night-vision camera board, a cordless soldering iron, assorted screwdrivers, wrenches, a USB cord, and an empty pack of gum. She carefully pulled one of the circuit boards from its wrap and held it by the edges.
“A location sensor. An optical sensor.” Anna turned the board over in her hands and looked at both sides. “What’s this one?”
“Airflow sensor. Measures soil air permeability.”
“These boards look custom. Did you print them yourself?” Anna asked.
“Right here on the farm.” Uncle Jack squinted in the afternoon light. “I also had a couple of night-vision camera modules lying around the shop. Handy, huh? Figured you might be able to do something with them.”
Anna nodded approvingly and then got to work. She removed the plastic casing of the sensor station and surveyed a nest of unattached wires.
Uncle Jack, for his part, sat down on a soft patch of wild grass and leaned back with his hands behind his head to stare at the spring clouds passing by overhead. A stiff breeze formed tiny waves on the surface of the lake, reflecting light that shimmered and shifted in rhythm with the sound of leaves blowing in the cottonwood tree. Minutes ticked by in silence as Anna worked.
“You know what I see?” Uncle Jack broke the silence.
“Some guy lying on the grass while his niece does all the work?” Anna shouted back as she gently placed the new circuit board in its housing.
“No, besides that.” Uncle Jack pointed up to a cloud overhead. “See that cloud right there? It looks just like the Millennium Falcon from Star Wars. Serious, look.”
Anna took a deep breath and looked up to where her uncle was pointing. “It looks like a clam.”
“No it doesn’t. And check this out—if you squint just right, the little clouds in front of it look like TIE fighters, too,” her uncle said, sounding genuinely impressed. “How cool is that?”
“You know, this might go faster if you help me out.”
“And deprive you of this learning experience? Nice soldering job by the way.” Uncle Jack turned his head in her direction. “Oh, I forgot to ask. How was your first day of school?”
“Weird.”
“Care to elaborate?” Uncle Jack asked.
“Let me see.” Anna didn’t look back as she began drilling holes for a small camera mount on top of the green box. “The principal was nice. Kids were friendly. And I think I might have actually made some friends today. So yeah, weird.”
“Yeah, that sounds positively awful.” Uncle Jack rolled over on his side and propped himself up on his elbow. “I don’t think you should ever go back.”
Anna couldn’t help herself and smiled.
“Not to rush you or anything, but how long is it going to take to wire up this camera thing of yours?” Uncle Jack asked. “I’m getting hungry.”
“Just need to configure the settings.” Anna removed the laptop from her backpack and plugged in the USB cord.
“So, how are you configuring the camera?”
“I’ve set up a script that takes a picture every five minutes on its own. But I’ve also integrated readings from your sensors. Anything moves out here tonight or any sudden bright light and the camera begins shooting video. It also triggers a message on my phone. If someone is out here messing around, we’ll catch them.” Anna closed the mount with a satisfying click.
“So no thermal scan?” Uncle Jack smiled slyly.
Anna rolled her eyes. “Yeah, that’s coming in version two.”