Forest Shroomy's Arc

Chapter 6 of 6

Forest Shroomy stood at the edge of the bypass network and watched the eastern grove for signs of movement. The conservation officer's promise hung in the air — forty-eight hours until the lab results, five years of protection if the mushrooms tested positive. But promises meant nothing if the network collapsed before then. She found the second set of probe marks three hundred yards deeper into the forest, near the oldest root channels. Six puncture holes arranged in a tight circle, each one perfectly spaced. The soil around them had already started to shift, nutrients draining away just like at the eastern grove. Forest Shroomy knelt and pushed her fingers into one of the holes. It went down eighteen inches before her hand stopped against something hard and smooth. She wrapped her fingers around it and pulled. The probe came free with a wet sucking sound — sleek metal with a hollow core, designed to draw material up from deep below. Someone had been extracting mycelium samples while she fought over the eastern grove. Forest Shroomy carried the probe back to her emergency post and measured the decay rate. At this speed, the oldest channels would fail in seventy-two hours — twelve hours before the lab results arrived. She needed to slow the drainage long enough for the classification to take effect. She worked through the night, hauling metal fencing from the northern boundary and staking it in a wide circle around the probe sites. The fence wouldn't stop someone determined, but it would slow them down and leave evidence if they tried again. By dawn, she had secured the perimeter and planted warning markers at each post. When she pressed her palm to the soil inside the fenced area, the mycelium threads felt weaker but stable. The oldest channels were holding. She had bought enough time for the conservation officer's timeline to matter. Forest Shroomy sat back against the fence and looked at the probe in her hands. Forty-eight hours until the results came. Seventy-two hours until the channels failed. The margin was thin, but it was there. She had built her defense. Now she would wait.