Extinction Warrior by Susan B. Wile

One Girl's Round-the-World Quest to Find Her Parents and Save Endangereds

In this blend of ‘Spy Kids' meets ‘Zootopia' with a dash of ‘Jurassic Park' intrigue, join clairvoyant Luki Sloan, her arctic fox Mig, and the android Tuk on a thrilling quest against the Red Dragon gang to rescue her scientist-detective parents from the clutches of the notorious animal trafficker, White Wolf!

Set in a futuristic world grappling with climate change and endangered species, this story follows 12-year-old Luki Sloan, who has the rare ability to communicate with animals. When her scientist-detective parents go missing on a mission to track down White Wolf, the ruthless leader of an animal trafficking ring, Luki takes matters into her own hands. With her arctic fox companion, Mig, and Tuk, a reactivated android, she devises a bold plan to infiltrate the Red Dragon gang by posing as traffickers. From the frozen Arctic to the storm-ravaged tropics, their journey unfolds with a mix of high-stakes encounters, surprising allies, and heartbreaking truths about humanity's impact on the planet.

This fast-paced adventure combines real-world science with imaginative storytelling, as Luki’s mission challenges her courage, loyalty, and determination. Along the way, readers are introduced to unique wildlife, indigenous Arctic traditions, and global ecosystems through detailed maps and vivid descriptions. Balancing thrilling action with emotional depth, the book paints a picture of a world where hope and resilience are the keys to overcoming seemingly impossible odds.

It’s a thought-provoking tale for young readers ready to explore complex themes of bravery and the power of connection.

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Excerpt from Extinction Warrior © Copyright 2024 Susan B. Wile

ANDROID ACTIVATION

I stand and head to the door, whispering, “Overhead light off.” The room goes dim, as I slip into the hall. The door to the kitchen and living room is cracked open. I glimpse Aana on the couch puffing her pipe, but she doesn’t notice me. Taata snores in the chair nearby, his head on his shoulder. Turning to the right, I walk three steps to my parent's office. Open the door and close it, whispering the command, “Overhead light on,” as the wind outside picks up, howling like wolves.

The room brightens, and Mig brushes my leg creeping toward the android.

Against the wall on the left, the wall facing the Strait sit two desks with a window in the middle. Tuttuk, lifeless, sits between the two desks, under the window in my chair, the one I’ve sat in a hundred thousand times. Mig sniffs the droids' legs.

The droid wears ultra-performance jeans, a short-sleeved t-shirt, running shoes and no socks—the unofficial uniform for kids in school — virtual or real.

I take a breath, walk over and lift his shirt, dipping my finger down through folds of his smartskin membrane. It’s like an extreme “innie” bellybutton that protects his activation key. I push down and start to count.

When I reach ten, he sits upright, puts his hands on his thighs, and opens his mouth for a full two seconds with a harmonizing tone that floats in my face. He’s powered, but inanimate. To animate and make him fully “alive,” I need to recite the numerical pass code Dad programmed him with; their wedding day, September 15, 2039.

Nervously, I lean to whisper in his ear, “9, 1, 5, 2, 0, 3, 9.” He blinks three times and smiles.

“Thank you, Luki! Complete animation is a tremendous feeling!” he exclaims, his voice deep and gentle, sort of creamy. He rotates his head around the room, as his eyelids flutter under a mound of thick blonde hair that falls on his forehead.

To be like us, with our values, I helped Dad load the droid’s mind-file data base with pictures, holograms and biographical information about our family, about Aana, Taata and the village, but we’d never completed the animation process. Before, he was just a piece of equipment, a mannequin. Fully animated, he’s so human, so real, it’s unbelievable. Way, way beyond anything virtual! “Hi Tuk,” I whisper.

“With your tendency to shorten names, shall you call me Tuk, and shall I be Tuttuk for your parents and the villagers?” He grins.

A wave of sorrow crashes over me. “Um, Mom, Dad,” my chin quivers, “…are gone… missing… maybe dead.” My eyes fill with tears, and I turn away dragging my arm across my nose and smash the tears with my palms. His cool hand touches my shoulder softly—his affective computing at work.

I turn back quickly, and his hand falls away.

“I need your help.” I blurt.

“I am here, whatever you need,” he nods, smiling wide, his straight teeth gleaming, his blue eyes sparkling. I'm stunned by how human he looks and feels, and peer down at Mig, who stretches and yawns.

“Good boy.” I lean and scratch between his ears.

“I cannot tell you how fantastic it feels to breathe,” Tuk inhales emphatically, expanding his chest, cooling his blockchain processor. “And hello, Migalik! You handsome arctic fox, white fox, polar fox, snow fox… phylum: cordata, clade: synapside, class: mammalia, order: carnivore, suborder: carniformia, family: canidae, species lagopus. I am not ignoring you.” He reaches out to pet Mig who leaps away from him, toward me.

Tuk recites the scientific classifications like a song and shifts his attention back to me. “What happened to Frank and Virginia?”

I tell him everything the commander said. He looks at me intensely and listens without blinking or moving his face.

He frowns and shakes his head. “Nothing in my database has experienced a swarm of two thousand Blue Trance Micro Bolts. Is there anything else I should know?” he asks.

I speak over the lump in my throat. “My parents told us about the endangereds the Red Dragons really want.”

“Tell me.” He pulls his chair over and leans in close, our knees almost touching.

I say, “I didn’t understand the first one, but Mom definitely said cinereous vultures… um, radiated tortoises, Puerto Rican crested toads, African wild dogs, and Partula snails—whatever they are.”

“Quite a diverse assortment.” He cocks his head staring into space.

My chest heaves and I stutter, “What can we do, Tuk?”

“We must undertake only one thing.” He replies with a certainty that dissolves my helpless feeling and instantly I feel courageous.

He looks at the ceiling, his pupils dilating, and blinks as if his eyelashes are about to take off and fly away.

“Tell me! What?” I'll do anything to help find my parents.

Tuk leans toward me and says, “We must find White Wolf. He knows where your parents are, and if we can, we must catch him.”

“What?!” I scoff. “You have got to be kidding!”

“On the contrary. I am quite serious. This is not a topic I would jest about.”

“Think about it, Tuk. Process that for longer than a nano—I’m twelve, and you’re a droid! Did your biochips infused with DNA take that into account?”

“Of those factors, I am well aware.”

“Finding White Wolf is one thing, but how do you expect us to catch him?” I'm sitting on the edge of Dad's chair.

“Simple…” he stares, expressionless, over my shoulder, “… we masquerade as Red Dragons.”

“What?!” I sputter.

“Naturally we must obtain samples. Something to show him. We must have products to offer.”

Sounds like he’s talking about paint chips or wallpaper. “Samples? What sort of samples?”