2
“You need my help?” Benji Moreno asked. He still stood beside Florence, stroking her long brown neck and keeping a tight hold on her bridle.
“I’ll let you know,” Travis said.
He had gotten fairly good at casting, even though he had still never fished for pleasure. It wasn’t one of the skills his father taught him.
But enough water retrievals had honed his aim. He hit the flesh-colored disk in the center of the pond on his first try.
He began reeling it in.
“What do you think it is?” Benji asked.
“Could be a bubble of spent fuel,” Travis said, knowing it wasn’t that at all. He wasn’t supposed to discuss much of the science with members of the public.
As he pulled the disk the last few feet onto shore, he heard snorting and a whinny behind him.
Florence’s eyes were wide. Travis co
