gamma world Red Sails in the Fallout Read online

  The earwigs began digging in the sand, sending little plumes of dust flying upward as they undermined the tent pegs. They worked in turns, sparing their feet from the hot sands.

  Shaani took another drink, offering some to her mount before climbing back into the saddle. She fumbled out a bomb from her belt and straightened out the wick, making sure she had raw gunpowder exposed on the end of the wick.

  Over at the tents, Wig-wig moved on from his first tent and started work on the second. Bugs dug away industriously, having the time of their lives. Several earwigs waved back toward the rest of the team in joy.

  There was a sudden grunt from the tents.

  A razorback stood blinking in the light, his trousers half down around his waist; he had stepped out of the third tent to have a pee. Two hundred kilograms of porcine muscle was staring in bleary confusion at the jets of sand flying up from all the tent pegs in front of him.

  Xoota gave a curse and kicked Budgie into the charge. “Benek, go.”

  Xoota and Benek charged.

  The razorback gave a loud roar of alarm. A second later Budgie cannoned into him, hurtling the pig back into the piles of sleeping razorbacks. Xoota turned Budgie around and snatched at one of the tent ropes. She tied it in place at her saddle horn and urged Budgie onward. The rope strained and heaved, and suddenly the entire tent came free. Xoota gave a whoop of joy. She rode forward, dragging the cover off a churning pile of razorbacks, who all woke up, roaring in rage.

  Hurtling smoke bombs left, right, and center, Shaani rode her skittering budgerigar right into the camp. She rode pell-mell toward the awning that sheltered the black riding cockatoos. The big, ragged birds were churning to their feet, screaming in alarm. Shaani made a spark crack from her fingertip and into the head of her bomb fuse. The wick sputtered furiously, burning far faster than she had planned. She hastily tossed the bomb away, but the fizzing fuse made her own budgerigar turn around in panic. The rat girl cursed and fought to get the creature under control, when suddenly the bomb exploded with a deafening bang. Her budgerigar reared in panic, throwing her off to land on her silky backside right in the sand.

  Cockatoos scattered in panic, dragging their tent awning with them. Smoke candles belched dense, white clouds as dust from the bomb made a choking fog. Razorbacks ran past, chasing after the cockatoos. Shaani scrabbled to her feet and ran, crouching, in the dust. A huge warrior loomed over her; she cracked the razorback in the shins with her entrenching tool, making the monster hop away, holding its leg and yammering. She ran forward, blinded by the smoke, and fell right over a tent rope.

  Benek gave a mighty war cry. He had never tried to seize a tent. Instead he drew a long sword and charged into the razorbacks, crashing his blade down into the creatures as they tried to rise from bed. His mount sideswiped Shaani as she ran, bowling her sideways into another tent. Benek hacked and swung; razorbacks grabbed at his mount and bogged it down.

  An immense razorback with a two-handed flail whirled his weapon in a savage arc and slammed it against Benek’s shield. The human staggered, half falling from his saddle. He shook his head and roared in rage. He got his hands around the neck of one razorback warrior, crushed the thing in his massive grasp, then hurtled the beast aside.

  The mammoth flail struck again. Benek reeled, hurt, his budgerigar screeching as it tried to claw free from the melee.

  Xoota looked back, saw Benek was in trouble, and gave a curse. She cut free her tent, turned, and rode like lightning crossways past the melee. She fired her crossbow from the saddle, and the bolt slammed into the flail-wielding pig. The razorback snarled and staggered away.

  Xoota reloaded in the saddle, the spare bolt clenched in her teeth as she swung around at a gallop. Suddenly her antennae twitched. Xoota whipped around in the saddle and fired into the bushes. A razorback armed with bolas reeled aside, shot clean through the chest. The quoll slung her crossbow, pulled her shield on to her arm, and charged into the smoke clouds to save Benek.

  Budgie crashed into the razorbacks, tearing at them with his beak. Rising in her stirrups, Xoota hammered her mace down onto one war pig’s head. She had made an opening for Benek’s bird, and the budgerigar took it. The bird clawed through the melee and lumbered into the dust. It ran south, the direction Benek should have damned well taken in the first place. Xoota hammered another mace blow at a razorback then stood in her saddle and called out to Shaani over the chaos.

  The smoke was getting thicker. Coughing, the rat staggered to her feet. Razorbacks were all around her, but a swarm of earwigs made them stagger, cursing and swatting wildly with their clubs and flails.

  Shaani blundered through the chieftain’s tent. There was a scattering of silks; blankets; leather armor; and a number of very, very large razorback sows screaming like frightened girls. A great, naked razorback chieftain bellowed at his men. Shaani fired her radiation bolt past him and knocked down the tent pole, effectively burying the pig beneath his own tent. The rat girl saw a wooden crate lying open in the middle of the blankets, and she immediately leaned over to peek inside.

  Xoota raced up on Budgie. “Shaani, run,” Xoota said as she snared the chieftain’s tent and tied the ropes to her saddle. “Get up behind me.”

  Shaani, however, had found a collection of rust and broken junk the razorbacks had been unable to understand. She plunged her head into the crate, her tail sticking up in glee. “Ooh. Spiffy.”

  “Shaani!”

  She was focused on some sort of chain-sword with a knuckle guard and razor-sharp teeth made out of duralloy. The words “Mister Fusion” were printed on the weapon’s power generator. She remembered something about this from a book. Shaani poured water from her canteen into the tank, and the “on” light instantly came to life. The rat was delighted.

  Beside her, the earwigs danced and wheeled. “Glee. We found a happy.”

  Fighting free from beneath the tent, the razorback chieftain stood up, saw the rat, and roared. Shaani shut the chainsaw’s cover plate, flicked a switch, and the weapon started with a roar. The chieftain took one look and fled. Shaani ran after the razorback, waving the chainsaw and cackling with glee.

  The fleeing chieftain reached the ranks of armed and armored friends. Thirty war pigs roared in hate. Faced with the overwhelming numbers, Shaani decided the time had come to turn and flee.

  Wig-wig surrounded her, suddenly just as keen to be out of the fight. “Run away! Run away!” the earwigs shouted.

  Shaani felt something tweak inside her. Ah. That good old alpha moment. The rat took off at a sprint like a champion, her legs going like drumsticks as she ran. She passed Xoota and headed for all points south. Wig-wig gleefully flew along with her, imitating the roar of the chainsaw. Xoota spurred after them, dragging the unwieldy mass of the chieftain’s tent behind her.

  Flushed from her amazing run, Shaani found her budgerigar, mounted up, and rode off, dragging the tent Xoota had previously abandoned. It trailed behind her, meter after meter of prime sharkskin. Between the two tents, they had enough to give their schooner a full set of sails.

  Benek, injured and hanging in his saddle with blood running down one broken arm, was waiting for them. His sword hung by a strap from his injured hand.

  Furious, Xoota rode up to the human and looked him over. “Wig-wig can probably fix it. You were lucky.” Xoota spurred away. “Don’t disobey my orders again.”

  Xoota rode on. Benek glared after her. He gripped his broken arm and wrenched it straight, the bone clicking into place.

  Far behind, the razorback camp was still in chaos. Benek turned his back on the barbarians and rode south.

  CHAPTER 5

  It was a wonderful, cool, clear dawn. The auroras had faded away; the last stars were slowly disappearing from view. The sky was lit a beautiful, soft, dove gray.

  Wearing a blanket poncho against the morning chill, Shaani, in her bobble hat, were standing in pleased contemplation of her achievement. Walking out from the tavern to stand beside
her, Xoota, Budgie, and the earwigs stood and looked up at the ship in awe.

  The vessel looked strange, almost ungainly. She sat on eight balloon tires with her bare masts soaring high above the village. Her bowsprit jutted forward like a mighty horn. The vehicle towered over her visitors. She was bigger than a house, almost the size of the rusting ship that housed the village tavern. Two huge spare tires and metal water tanks were slung low as ballast between her axles. There were headlights, bumper bars, and coils of rope. The ship had a weird look of power and grace about her that was simply spellbinding. Xoota could have never imagined anything like it before.

  “Wow.”

  Wig-wig echoed Xoota’s stunned amazement. “Wow.”

  “Fantastic. Simply fantastic.” Xoota craned her head back to look at the masthead, far overhead. “Shaani, you have outdone yourself.”

  The rat surveyed her handiwork. “Yes, I think this will do the job. She came out rather well.”

  “You think on a rather different scale to other people. Have I told you that?”

  “Science.” The rat was pleased. “Nothing is impossible with science.”

  The rear of the ship had a long ramp, a legacy of the moon buggy chassis. Shaani worked a control, and the ramp slowly lowered, offering a steep slope to access the ship’s hold.

  Shaani trotted up onto the vessel. Xoota had to coax Budgie on board, moving him only when the ramp began to close without him. The bird raced on board and tried to preserve his dignity by ordering his striped blue feathers.

  Upstairs, Wig-wig settled in the rigging, looking happily around. “Does it go?”

  “Yes, it should do. Now we have to test her under field conditions. We’ll take her for a shakedown.” Shaani gave her friends the full guided tour. “Right. So she steers from the front, looking out of those windows. The steering wheel swivels the front two sets of wheels; we have a wide turning circle, so be careful. Brakes are operated by foot pedal. Parking brake—that’s this handle here.” The rat walked along with her tail twirling. “Electric winches raise and lower the sails. We can control thrust by dropping the sails or by changing the angle of attack so that less thrust is produced. We’ll have to learn that as we go. We need one driver and one or more people on deck to trim the sails.” The rat looked around, wondering what to point out next. “The accommodations are in the cabin here at the stern. Cargo is stored beneath the decks, accessed by the ramp. That’s where we can house Budgie, bicycles, that sort of thing. We have some grass awnings to spread above the deck to shade it in the daytime. Oh, a hand pump here, to wet down the sails in case of fire.”

  Xoota was simply amazed. “What about armament?”

  Shaani airily waved her hand. She wore her chainsaw across her back. It gave her a decidedly psychopathic air. “I made a catapult. Good for about five hundred meters with a three-kilo shot.”

  “A catapult?” Xoota was delighted. She leaned over to inspect the weapon in question; it looked a little like a torture rack spliced with a crossbow. The windlass system had been taken from an old car’s gearbox. The bow seemed to have been made out of the leaf springs from an old truck. “What does it fire?”

  “Ah, now these are special.” Shaani opened a locker. “I could only make six. It’s hard to make bombs; no sulfur to make gunpowder, you know. So I made acid and soaked it into cotton to make a sort of gun cotton. These are three-kilo bombs, light blue touch paper and fire. Should give a cracker of a good bang.” The rat sighed. “It’s a shame there are only six.”

  “Why not just fire rocks?” Xoota looked the weapon over. “A three-kilo rock is no laughing matter.”

  “Oh, well, I suppose you could.” Shaani had never really thought of the low-tech solution. “We can bring some rocks along if you like.”

  Several villagers had come drifting out of their homes to watch the activity on the strange, ungainly ship. Shaani gave her ship one last inspection then called down to the villagers below.

  “I say. Might we have the village gates open, please? We’re just taking her for a spin.”

  In the control cabin, Wig-wig was bustling all over the dashboard. Xoota looked at the confusing selection of chairs, wheels, levers, and pedals only to have Shaani usher her into a seat.

  “Right. You do the honors. Throw that knife switch. It will engage the power to the engines. The wheel steers left and right. The pedal there controls the brakes.”

  Xoota felt a surge of panic. “How do I slow?”

  “Uh, use the brakes, I guess. And toggle the power on and off … I suppose I should fix up something more elaborate.” Shaani frowned. “This is sort of a working beta model, I’m afraid. Never mind.” She patted the quoll on the shoulder. “Yoiks and away.”

  Nervous of the electric switch, Xoota gingerly lowered the contacts. There was a flash and a spark and suddenly the ship jerked forward. Xoota gave a squawk of panic and disconnected the switch. She tried it again, surging power awkwardly. The ship jerked in a series of hefty bunny hops, her masts swaying high above. From up on deck, Shaani called down into the cabin.

  “Ha! She moves. Perhaps a rheostat? That would moderate the amount of power going into the wheels.”

  Xoota engaged the engines and grimly took hold of the steering wheel. The ship slid forward, faster and faster, her electric engines giving off only the faintest whir. Children ran along beside her in the street, laughing and hooting with joy. On the main deck, Budgie looked down over the rails, utterly amazed. More villagers came running out of doors, cheering as the ship slid by. Xoota took a slight turn at far too high a speed, somehow managing to miss the bakery, and headed for the village gates.

  Sitting happily on the railing above, Shaani doffed her cap to the village guard. The ship rolled merrily onward, off into a lovely morning breeze. The rat waggled her feet above the ground and simply enjoyed the ride.

  Jolly boating weather.

  And a hay harvest breeze.

  Blades on the feather.

  Shade off the trees.

  Swing, swing together,

  With your bodies between your knees.

  Swing, swing together,

  With your bodies between your knees …

  Off and down the dusty road, the ship rode smoothly over the uneven ground, the stalk suspension moving up and down like a caterpillar’s legs. It took some getting used to, but one could walk the decks. Shaani and Wig-wig enjoyed the morning breeze then slid down to the back of the control cabin.

  “Now head to the high ground over there, past the wattle trees. Bring her to a halt, and we’ll test her under sail.”

  The ship turned uphill. She immediately slowed down. Under electrical power, she was no racehorse; a jogging man could have easily caught up with her. Xoota let her slowly climb to the hill crest, looking down upon the little town.

  The morning breeze was its usual steady self. The quoll jerkily worked the brake, feeling the vehicle slow. With engines disengaged, the ship drifted slowly to a halt. Xoota remembered the hand brake and yanked at the thing; it was as stiff as all hell but seemed to do the job.

  “How fast were we going?” Shaani asked.

  Xoota blinked. “How should I know?”

  “The dials on the moon buggy control panel. It still has a speedometer and odometer. Should give speed and also distance traveled.”

  “Oh.” Xoota had noticed no such damned fool thing. She had been terrified of crashing and ruining the last two weeks of hard work. “Right. So what now?”

  “We set the sails.” Shaani led the way back out on deck. The view was magnificent. The ship gave a wonderful vantage point for observing the desert. Budgie was taking advantage of the fact, sitting on his backside beside the mainmast and chortling happily away. Shaani stood beside one of the winches and explained the sail plan to Xoota.

  “Right. The mainmast is actually at the rear. It’s taller. So that’s the foremast.” She pointed. “Bowsprit out the front. We can run with mainsail, fore and main, topsails o
n both masts, jibs running from the bowsprit to the foremast …” A switch hauled a triangular sail up out of a locker and stretched it on a line running from the bowsprit. “Just a jib and the mainsail for starters, I think.”

  The electric winch whirred. The big mainsail, made from a blue and gold parachute, soared up the mast. It immediately made a cracking noise in the wind, the fabric turning stiff as a board. The deck took on a decided tilt. Shaani kept her eyes fixed on the sails.

  “Right. Ooh, good. Feel her trying to tilt in the wind? That’s why the ballast can be pumped from port to starboard.” The rat waved a hand. “Wig-wig, can you watch the instruments? Xoota, let’s make history.”

  Xoota returned to her control cabin. Releasing the hand brake almost gave her a hernia, but she managed it. She felt the ship give a slight lurch. It moved ever so slightly forward. “The brakes are off.”

  “Right.” Shaani let the boom swing to her right. “I’m letting her go full sails. Turn to port and we’re away.”

  Xoota turned the wheel to the right, pointing the ship’s nose toward the town. The hull creaked, there was a groan from the masts, and the ship began rolling backward. Eyes wide with panic, Xoota abandoned the steering wheel and hauled on the hand brake.

  Outside on the deck, Shaani made a noise of panic. “No, wrong way.” The rat ran around, tugging on ropes and trying to spill wind from the sails. “What are you doing? I said port.”

  Xoota looked at the rat, quite mystified. “I thought you meant steer for home. You know, head back to port.”

  “No, no, turn to the port. Port, that way. Left.”

  Xoota planted her fists on her hips. “Well, if you mean left, then say left. Don’t be obtuse.”

  The rat looked at Xoota over the rims of her spectacles. “Did you bother to read any of the instructional material I laid out for you?”

  “Yes.” Xoota grumbled. “Well, no. I can only read if someone does it out loud for me.”