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tasked his memory for food ideas.
    There ought to be plenty to eat in this plant-rich environment, he thought.
    As diffused light from the second sun began penetrating depths of the jungle, Simon came across a well-worn game trail.
    Animals move between food sources .
    The strong, young boom operator crawled along the trail under a thick wall of vines hanging down from the decaying trunk of a long-dead hardwood tree. On the other side, he saw the unmistakable six-pedal flower of a parasitic, Sloh-dha plant growing from a crack in the back of an old tree. These plants were widespread on Tanarac and often farmed for their sweet stalks. Leathery skin itself was not edible, but tender pulp inside was almost pure sugar when ripe.
    H ungry drove him to rip a stalk off the plant, tear through its green-and-black striped, protective sheath and bite into the exposed pulp. He winced. Bitterness was nothing like the sweet food he sampled in school.
    Thinking water was readily available, and shelter not a major concern during this mild time of year, food became his obsession. Weakness was setting in.
    Despite being s urrounded by plants, it was difficult to know which ones were edible. He saw vines with odd-looking pods, small bushes covered with brightly colored flowers and short-stalk plants with thick bulbs at their base. He thought back. Basic rules from botany class about identifying edible plants slowly came to him.
    Poison fruits have red coloring in their flowers or skin. He mentally reviewed the rules. Edible fruits tend to grow on tall bushes or small trees.
    As he pressed his memory, more information surfaced.
    Ground -based fruits are often toxic to ensure their survival. Plants with thorns are usually edible, as they rely on thorns for survival instead of toxins. Yes, it’s coming back.
    Simon continued his journey along the game trail , keeping close watch for anything that might satisfy his growing criterion for edible food.
    Morning fog burned off early. Every so often, a bright ray of sunshine miraculously found its way through thick layers of jungle canopy to appreciative plants below. Most of the larger trees leaned away from the direction of the morning sun as they grew toward the greater sunlight achieved during afternoons. Even when Simon could not see sunlight, leaning tree trunks helped him maintain a constant direction to the east, farther away from captivity.
    Hours passed, and the young man’s pace increased as hunger deepened.
    F amiliar noises came from nearby. It was a family of tree-dwelling Chik Chiks. He enjoyed the antics of these little creatures many times in the quarry’s holo-image zoo. Common to most jungles on Tanarac, they thrived on a diet of fruit—fruit he knew was also edible by humans.
    He parted a veil of tangled vines, looking for the source of the noise. There, in a small clearing, a single Topi tree stood in the middle of a slim beam of sunlight. Its branches bowed nearly to the ground under the weight of ripe fruit.
    A gitated Chik Chiks scampered in circles on the upper branches as the hungry young man approached. One small brown creature charged down from the top of the tree to spit at the human intruder, before scurrying back to safety on higher reaches.
    Ignoring protests from the harmless animals, Simon plucked one of the nearest fruit. Its dark green skin easily tore open exposing dozens of pink and yellow seeds. Each seed, the size of his small fingernail, burst in his mouth, releasing their energy and juice. He swallowed both fluid and pulp, eating fistfuls of sweet seeds at a time.
    Driven by hunger, he tore down a branch with a dozen fruit pods and sat on the ground, eating as fast as he could peel back rinds. Gorging continued until he grew uncomfortably full. The natural sugar-based seeds quickly restored his energy.
    “That was good . Thanks for sharing,” he said and gave a mock salute to angry Chik Chiks.
    Simon felt more alive than ever before. He basked in the