Hands on the joysticks, Will slowly flew along the length of the Leviathan.

"Wow this thing is—is—"

"Colossal," Smith said finishing the sentence when the boy couldn't come up with an adequate adjective.

"Well, yeah. It is humungous."

"Massive."

"Ginormous."

"Gargantuan."

Grinning widely, Will peered down toward the tail end of it. "Okay, now that I can see for myself how big it is, do we keep to the grid?"

"Of course, that's why we're here, as I recall. At your insistence no less."

"No that was Dad and Don's insistence. I just wanted to go for a ride."

"Indeed. A bazillion miles out into space, and you still want to go on an excursion." Smith sniffed to show his disapproval. "Anyway, keep following the rut left behind and see if there are any deviations."

After bypassing the back end of the thing, they noticed that the anticipated rut wasn't as deep as expected. The trail that cut through the forest growth was filled with some viscous brown fluid, soupy, swampy, yet reflecting the afternoon light in places.

Leaning forward, Will exclaimed suddenly. "Dr. Smith, do you know what this stuff is? It's worm shi—"

"William, I'll have you know there will be no cursing while I'm around."

"But it's just—"

"Excrement."

"Pony pucks," Will offered benignly.

"Feculence."

"Cow chips."

"Manure."

"Meadow muffins."

Smith raised his hand in surrender. "Enough, enough. It's a miasmic mess no matter what you call it."

And that miasmic mess stretched on for miles as they flew over it. Eventually it became more dry and loamy appearing. Beyond that were signs of small growths in the center. "Clearly there is rapid recovery once it passes. Now I understand why those trees bearing what we assumed were nuts had such iron-like exteriors. The Leviathan swallows the tree, digests the tree, then it's 'voided' out its distal orifice undigested but softened enough to eventually take root in the newly formed soil."

Shrugging, Will continued on. Frankly he wasn't all that interested in the biological processes of the local wildlife, no matter how big or small it was. Like his dad, he was fascinated with geology and to a greater extent, electronics. How the Pod flew was more fascinating to him that how the beast below them metabolized what it consumed. But he had to admit he was enjoying this adventure and the moments of verbal word play.

"Look, he turned," pointed Will at a clear deviation from the path.

Whether or not the thing was male or female wasn't obvious but Smith didn't correct him. "Him" was as good as 'her' at that point. The thought that it might be both made him nervous. Nor did he even want to think about young Leviathans scouring the neighborhood. Pulling his thoughts back to the present, he leaned over the controls and glanced left and right out of the viewport. There was a large northern mountain range partially bisecting the continent, towering thousands of feet. Leviathan was big but not so large that it wanted to ingest nothing but solid rock. So, he made a note about that on the chart, specifically because the creature's track was now paralleling the mountains. Here, the path started to grow 'old'. Young forest was springing up in the brown and black dirt. Where no trees grew, there was still high grasses and low shrubbery.

Eventually there was no sign of the pathway left behind aside from some lighter coloring. The emerald growth resembled canals even though there was no water flowing through it, and probably not easily passable by foot. Then they saw what they were looking for. It was a curving deviation from the track, with lighter crustier surface features. Sand and water also covered some areas. Not lakes or ponds. Just as if there wasn't adequate drainage and the water had pooled above it.

"Doesn't like water?" posited Will, glancing at him with excited eyes. Discovery.

"Or sand," Smith answered with a dip of his chin.

"Or both," they said in tandem, as Smith marked the area off for further investigation.

A jubilant Will snatched up the microphone and called his father. "Dad, Dad, we found something. I think anyway." He explained their discovery.

"Moved off a straight line?" John asked.

"Absolutely. Went around it. Pretty big area too and then it moved straight from that point."

"Where are you?"

"About 300 miles from you, as the crow flies," he stated, fond of that particular colloquialism. "Northwest. Dr. Smith already marked the sector."

"Excellent. What's the terrain like?"

"Looks like sand, water. Maybe clay. The clay areas don't look so hot for growing things. I mean, it doesn't look suitable for growing things," he amended. "Looks like there was once a lake here that dried out, maybe."

"Can you set down and safely get a sample?"

"Sure. How much?"

"Bucketful will do. I threw two of them in there just before you left."

"I noticed," he said with a laugh. "Dr. Smith kicked them and then made a bunch of bad puns about it."

"Call me when you're up in the air again. Over and out."

The task was easily accomplished since there were no awful space yetis or space dragons or space aliens to interrupt the boy as he worked. It didn't bother him that Smith leaned against the Pod while he worked. At least he had Will's laser pistol in hand in the event there was any trouble. That was a positive thing. Smith could shoot accurately when he needed to, so the boy gathered his specimens quickly and without anxiety.

As promised, he contacted his Dad again and they mutually decided to abandon the grid search for the day. They'd flown at a 45-degree angle for much of the way home when his father contacted him again.

"Son, we've examined the blood work, but we were wondering. Um, I'm not sure how to put this delicately but did you happen to see if the Leviathan leaves anything in its wake?"

"Here we go again," Smith muttered, eyes closed.

"What was that?"

"Oh nothing, Dad. Just Dr. Smith, uh, well…you know, being Dr. Smith."

"You've become quite caustic in your old age, you know that?" was his companion's response.

The boy simply ignored that. "What do you want us to do?"

Smith crossed his arms over his chest and stood up ramrod straight. "He's going to want us to acquire a sample of that monstrosity's waste matter. And you can tell him for me that I unequivocally refuse to do as he proposes."

"Hear that, Dad?" Will said

"Oh you wicked little boy!" Smith hissed.

"You know, Smith, I was going to have Will do it but I've had a change of mind. Since he's flown most of the day, I think your contribution should be collecting the sample. And that's an order."

"Shit," Smith muttered to no one in particular.

Will had a huge grin plastered on his face. He waggled his finger under the doctor's nose. "Uh, uh, uh, no cussing remember?"

"Would cussing in other languages count?"

"I don't know. I've never heard any of those."

"Good." After landing in a small clearing, the doctor took a bucket, the collapsible shovel, and a pair of surgical gloves, and then climbed down the rungs. They moved closer to the river of excrescence. "Great God in Heaven, this reeks. I think I'm going to—"

"Hurl?" Will supplied helpfully from behind him. He agreed with the doctor but wasn't going to let on that he was suffering.

"Vomit."

"Barf."

"Regurgitate."

"Enough. Enough. I'm halfway there already." He looked for a safe and firm perch. "What I wouldn't give for a pair of waders."

He looked at the departing backside in the distance and hollered at top volume, "This smells like something died in there." Then he turned back to the boy. "What am I saying? Everything died in there. He turned to look back at the beast and loudly yelled, "You are putrescence personified. Did you know that?"

"You're looking a little green, Dr. Smith."

"Merde," was the reply.

Leaning over the effluence as much as he dared, he used the shovel to scoop up some of the liquidy mess. "Scheisse."

"What was that?"

"Gowno," was the reply as another shovelful plopped wetly into the bucket.

"I may not know what you're saying, but I'm betting Mom would be really upset if she figured out what those words mean."

"We're not going to tell her, now, are we?" The threat in Smith's voice was unmistakable, although Will knew he'd never deliver on it and only smiled in response.

They started to walk back to the Space Pod when some of it sloshed over the bucket, splattering wetly near their feet. Smith turned white, then green for real, then white again. After hurriedly but cautiously placing the bucket down, he bolted off for the nearest bushes. Will looked down at the brown jello-like goo and lost it. He soon joined Smith at the edge of the downed trees.