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but we won in the scientific technology department. The Orb, the aquasuits, the molecular particle disruptor, the dragonspies, as you call them, and the micro-surveillance cameras: They’re all ready for prime time. Which means we get paid.”
    The Orb was a miniature nuclear sub that looked like a golden beach ball and was big enough to hold three people. It was able to reach unheard-of depths without imploding the occupants. They had used it to lure the giant squid out from the Kaikoura Canyon into the Moon Pool of the Coelacanth . The molecular particle disruptor was a zipper wand that allowed them to get into and out of the Orb and the aqua-suits. The Orb and aquasuits were made out of a brand-new alloy that Ted likened to “organic body armor,” able to adapt instantly to any environment and impervious to just about everything.
    The dragonspy, or bot-fly, was Marty’s and Luther’s favorite invention of Ted’s. It resembled a dragonfly in shape and size, but that’s where the similarities stopped. It was a miniature flying robot equipped with cameras and microphones that sent video and audio to the Gizmo — another invention of Ted’s that made all other smartphones look stupid.
    “What about Grace?” Marty asked. “What about my parents?”
    “Duh du jour ,” Wolfe said.
    Marty and Luther looked at him in shock. This was the boys’ favorite saying, but it didn’t sound quite right coming from Wolfe’s bearded lips.
    “This is why I wanted to talk with you,” Wolfe said. “There are several new developments. Grab a seat.”
    Marty sat down at the head of the table, wondering if his uncle had good news or bad. Good news had been as rare as cryptids since they’d returned from the coast of New Zealand aboard the Coelacanth . Not even the successful delivery of the giant squid was enough to rescue them from the funk they had been in since Grace’s abrupt departure.
    Luther plopped down on Loch’s desk, which would allow him to pick through the director’s clutter while he listened to what Wolfe had to say.
    “Let’s start with your parents.” Wolfe took out his Gizmo and consulted the screen. “There’s no concrete news, but Robert Lansa sent me an email late last night saying that he’s heard some rumors about a man and a woman being injured and taken by an uncontacted indigenous tribe to their village deep in the jungle.”
    “What do you mean by uncontacted ?” Luther asked.
    “A tribe that has had no contact with the outside world,” Wolfe answered. “Ever.”
    “Can’t be too many of those left,” Marty said.
    Wolfe nodded. “But I don’t want you to get your hopes up. One of the problems we’re dealing with now is that our presence down there is causing a lot of chatter. It’s the same thing when you’re looking for cryptids. When you go into an area making inquiries about something that’s not supposed to exist,the rumors and sightings hit the roof. Most of the sightings turn out to be hoaxes, and the rumors lies.”
    “But the rumors in Brazil might be true,” Marty said excitedly.
    “We’ll see,” Wolfe said. “Laurel Lee and Ana Mika are on their way down there right now to help the Lansas check out the rumors. Jake Lansa’s meeting them in Manaus and taking them to the jaguar preserve.”
    Ana Mika was an investigative journalist and Ted Bronson’s longtime girlfriend. Laurel Lee was a cultural anthropologist, and maybe Wolfe’s new girlfriend.
    “If there’s any merit to the information, those two will dig it out,” Ted said.
    “I wish I’d been able to go with them,” Wolfe said.
    “Why didn’t you?” Marty asked, wondering why he hadn’t been told about this beforehand. He would have liked to have gone down with them, too.
    “Business,” Wolfe said gloomily. “It’s time to cash in on the technology we’ve been developing the past several years.”
    “I thought catching the giant squid would make you solvent,” Luther said.
    “Solvent?”