gamma world Red Sails in the Fallout Page 8

  Great. Xoota cursed and held up her shield. She shuffled forward carefully, pace by pace, with Shaani and the earwigs crowding close behind to peer around her shoulders. They advanced forward in a group, moving toward the sound.

  Ahead, the tunnel seemed to take on an eerie, green glow, the walls twinkling occasionally with bio lights where little fungi and medusa plants grew. Wig-wig investigated, but the earwigs jumped back as the little medusae grabbed at them with their tentacles.

  A wider chamber suddenly opened out before them. The floor had been fashioned into a vast set of stairs. A meter-wide pipe gushed water in a cascade down the steps, forming a deep pool at the center of the floor. Old tunnels led off into the gloom. The fungus there grew thick and lush, giving off a weird, blue-green glow.

  Sitting on the steps were a pair of enormous frogs.

  They were covered in glowing, green spots and were each at least the size of a human being. Xoota dropped into a crouch. Quoll, rat, and earwigs all tried to hide behind the one shield.

  One of the frogs tilted its head. “May we help you?”

  Shaani rose up out of cover, her tall ears followed by her bobble hat, goggles, and face. “Ah, hello. What are you doing down here?”

  “We live here. It’s a well.”

  “Yes, yes, I suppose it is.” Shaani stood up. The deep-throated rumble of the frogs was clearly the noise they had heard from down the tunnel. “Pardon us. Shaani, Xoota, and Wig-wig,” she said, indicating each, “scientific investigators. How do you do?”

  “Quite well, thank you.” The frogs had some boxes and pieces of furniture over by one dry wall. “Do come in.”

  Xoota stood, feeling decidedly weirded out. “Sorry. We thought there were monsters down here.”

  One frog frowned. “Oh, yes, we do have those.”

  “Down!” Xoota caught a sudden premonition and ducked. Five long, horrible flesh tubes erupted out of the water. Sucking mouths gaped at the tips as they came right at Shaani and Xoota. Shaani squealed and dodged. One of the horrible creatures missed her by a whisker’s breadth. Xoota let one monster crash into her shield. She met another head-on with her mace, the hard cogs pounding into the creature’s rubbery flesh. But another one of the beasts stuck on to her leg. She cursed as it bit through her hide.

  Wig-wig descended all over one of the horrible serpent creatures, slicing and nipping with countless earwig forceps. The monster bucked and squealed. Earwigs held on grimly as the monster tried to slam itself against the walls.

  Shaani fled backward, whacking at one slithering eel creature with her entrenching spade. Her long tentacles found loose rocks and threw them at the creature, driving it back. Suddenly the monster reared and flung itself at her like a javelin. Shaani struck it with full force after a magnificent windup, the blow making her shovel ring like a bell. The monster catapulted back onto the ground and lay still. It was immediately consumed by one of the frogs.

  Xoota was driven back by two of the rubbery monsters. A third hung off her leg, sucking blood. Shaani gave a shout, pointed her hand, and shot a blast of pure radiation straight at the creature crawling up over Xoota’s shield. The monster fell aside, burned to a cinder.

  The other two clung on. A second monster lunged for Xoota’s face. She caught the thing’s sucker-mouthed head in her bare hand. It spit goo right in her eye.

  “Kack damn it.”

  Wildly angry, Xoota bunched her fists, and her fur blazed brightly. Shaani and the earwigs ducked aside as a brilliant flash flooded the room.

  Xoota stood, seething and annoyed, smoke rising from her blackened fur. Scorched, rubbery monsters dropped off her and lay smoldering on the ground. They smelled strangely tasty. Shaani raised her head from behind a rock, totally dazzled by the flash.

  “Oh, wacko.”

  “Damn it.” Xoota no longer sparkled. It hadn’t been such a lame alpha mutation after all. She kicked at one of the dead monsters and sent it flying.

  The frogs had been horribly dazzled by the light. “Ow.”

  “Serves you right.” Xoota was in a fine, foul mood. “What the hell were those things?”

  “Leeches.” The frogs shrugged. “We eat them so they keep away from us. They must like you.”

  “Thanks for the heads-up.” Xoota saw blood running down her thigh. “Damn it. I’m bit.”

  Earwigs emerged out of hiding. “Ow. Hurt.” Several danced around Xoota. “Owie.”

  Xoota swore and pressed the injury, which seemed determined to keep bleeding. “Damn it. Somebody help me fix this.”

  “Wig-wig can fix it.”

  Earwigs clustered around Xoota, pointing their little antennae. The quoll’s leg instantly felt weird, tickling and jerking up and down.

  She waved a hand in panic. “Wait. What are you doing?”

  Shaani had come running over with her first-aid kit. She scooped a tin cup into the water, ready to wash Xoota’s wound clean.

  The quoll frantically tried to wave the water away. “No, those frogs have been peeing in it.”

  “Don’t be such a baby. Salt is a disinfectant.” Shaani carefully bathed Xoota’s thigh. Much to their surprise, Xoota’s wound was already perfectly healed. Even her fur had grown back. Shaani inspected the bite site in amazement. “I say. Wig-wig, did you do that?”

  The earwigs beamed. “Wig-wig did it.”

  Xoota blinked. The wound had gone. “That’s … actually, that’s amazing.”

  The earwigs beamed. “Wig-wig be useful.”

  The lab rat was delighted. “Empathic healing. He’s an empath.” Shaani pointed an admonishing finger at Xoota. “He picks up on emotional radiations. You have to be more careful with your attitudes.”

  “What?” Xoota bridled. “Why mine? Why not yours?”

  The rat made a lofty gesture. “Mine are motivated by science and benevolence. They cannot possibly be harmful.”

  Xoota muttered curses under her breath. She stomped off to take guard against any more sudden leech attacks while Shaani ambled over to the frogs, who sat casually on old, plastic lawn tables, their throat pouches wobbling in and out. They seemed to be keeping carefully out of the water.

  One of them turned to face Shaani. “Did you come about the water?”

  “Yes.” Shaani knelt beside the frog. “You’ve noticed the change?”

  “Indeed. We have to keep up out of the water now. It’s hurting our skins.”

  Shaani carefully tasted the water gushing out of the pipe. It was salty. “When did this first start happening?”

  “It became a little brackish a week ago. It’s been getting worse and worse.” The smaller frog had a higher, more musical voice. “It burns my feet.”

  “Hmm.” Shaani looked at the pipe. It was the same vintage technology as the surrounding chambers. “Have you chaps always lived down here?”

  “Oh, yes. It’s the only place an amphibian can live, really. But there’s a long-necked tortoise who lives here too.”

  “So no one upstairs knows about you?”

  “Well, in a sense. We come up to the tavern from time to time. We just don’t like to tell anyone we’re living in the town water supply.”

  Xoota grumbled. “They probably know; that’s why they all drink at the tavern.” The quoll glowered. “Look, that pipe, there. Do you idiots know where all that water is coming from?”

  The smaller frog puffed up in self-importance. “Of course. It’s on the map.”

  “All right, show me the map.”

  The frogs led the way, making long leaps into one of the dry side tunnels.

  Mounted on one wall was a plastic plate that depicted a series of lines snaking and branching off from one great central route. Shaani produced a broad brush and began industriously cleaning away a deep layer of dust and grime.

  Xoota blinked at the runes written on the plastic. “What does it say?”

  The rat peered through her glasses. “It says ‘National grid conduit—western power line.’ ” />
  “What’s a grid conduit?”

  “A means of transferring electrical power from one place to another. They must have been making underground power lines.” Shaani blew more dust away from the runes. “See this? ‘Proposed completion date’ …” She mused. “They never completed the project.”

  Xoota scratched her hairy chin. “So if this was for power, why is water coming through it?”

  “A water source must have started flowing into the far end of the empty power pipe.”

  They stood together and looked at the map.

  Xoota sucked on one fang. “So do you think salt is somehow leaking into the pipe?”

  Shaani pondered. “Well, the pipe is intact, otherwise the water wouldn’t flow. So contamination must be getting in via the water source at the far end.” She tapped at the upper end of the map. “What we have to do is locate that water source, which will be … well, here, at the only other open point in the line.”

  There was an awful lot of space between the top and bottom parts of the pipe. Xoota scratched at her head. “What distance is that?”

  “Hmm. Well, it heads east out beneath the desert …” There was a scale on one side of the map. Shaani to ok a piece of string and measured the scale then measured the distance on the map.

  Xoota frowned. “Well?”

  “Oh, it’s a wee bit of a way. I’m sure we could make it.” Xoota grew suspicious. She folded up her arms. “How damned far?”

  “Ahem.” Shaani tried to look innocent. “About three thousand kilometers.”

  Xoota gave the girl a level glare. “Three thousand?”

  “Give or take.”

  “I see.” Xoota gestured back at the pipe. “Were you planning on crawling? How long can you hold your breath?

  The lab rat was not downhearted. She settled her bobble hat and goggles and took on a wild, determined look in her pink eyes. “It can be done. We can just go overland.”

  “Nope, sorry. I’m going to play the ‘bones bleaching in the sand’ card here.” Xoota leaned against one wall. “This is not something we can fix.”

  “It’s just a problem in mechanics.” Shaani unrolled paper and took a rubbing of the map. “The pipe has been laid in a straight line. We merely proceed on the same compass bearing for three thousand kilometers.”

  “See, that’s the part I don’t think you’re grasping.”

  Wig-wig clustered happily around Shaani, echoing her eagerness. “It can be done. It can be done.”

  “Hush, you.” Xoota glared. “There’s no way pack animals can carry enough water to cross the sands.”

  “Quite so. Quite so …” Shaani was no longer listening. She was alive with the seeds of an idea. “Come on. Let’s get upstairs and get busy.”

  Shaani nodded a good-bye to the frogs. She walked off, so possessed by thought that she took a wrong turn. Wig-wig happily led her off in the right direction.

  Xoota hung back, kicking at the rubble. Finally she made an exasperated noise and followed the others. She called down the tunnel after Shaani. “It can’t be done.”

  “Can.”

  “Can’t.” Xoota stamped a foot. “Can’t can’t can’t can’t can’t.”

  The only answer was a distant noise of delight from Shaani. “Ooh, my tentacles have gone.”

  Xoota shook her head. “Bleeding hell.”

  She stomped off after the others, certain that the day would end in tears.

  Sitting in the tavern nursing a large omega ale, Xoota was decidedly out of sorts. She was right. She was always right. Other people were basically idiots. Why Shaani couldn’t see that elemental truth was utterly beyond her. Ha. Let her learn.

  The rat was out in the town somewhere, probably talking to caravaners, trying to find some fool who would risk making the desert trek. Well, she wouldn’t find anyone. And if she did, then Xoota wasn’t following them to pick up the corpses. If she had to, she would tie the rat up and lock her in a cellar. That ought to put some sense into her.

  Two gecko girls came and presented Xoota with her dinner. The geckos were both wreathed in smiles. “Dinner, science adviser. The best in the house.”

  “What? Oh, thank you.” Xoota felt a stab of guilt; being antisocial, it took her a moment to recognize the source of the emotion. She was a hero even though she hadn’t saved the town’s water supply. How was she ever going to live down their expectations?

  Happy as a prairie oyster in chowder, Shaani came bopping into the room, surrounded by earwigs. She had an old blanket coat on as protection from the stiff, night breeze, and her spectacles shone bright. She plunked herself into a seat beside Xoota.

  “Top ho. I’ve just been up on the tavern rooftop.”

  Xoota drank, possibly mutating as she swallowed. “What the hell have you been doing up there?”

  “Measuring the wind.”

  “What, in a bag?”

  “No, in some cups.” The rat held out her latest gizmo, a crosswork of sticks with cups on the end, designed to catch the breeze and turn like a windmill. “An anemometer. I count the RPMs to get the wind strength. Did you know we get a persistent wind in the five-meter band above the ground, more at ten meters.”

  “Well, that’s nice.” Xoota looked at her dinner: sand prawns and a four-legged chicken. “Why is this relevant?”

  “It is relevant because it is a delivered system of energy. We may transfer this energy into a machine and convert energy to motion.”

  “What?”

  “We can use the wind to make something go.”

  Xoota rolled her eyes. “I know that. I mean, what are you going to make go?”

  “Ah, I shall create a revolution.” Shaani sampled her dinner and made a face. “I say, this is a bit odd. How’s yours?”

  “The chicken tastes like beef.”

  “This beef tastes like chicken.”

  They looked at each other for a moment then swapped plates. The results were far more satisfying. Shaani ate like a starving monster, getting her food down quickly so she could talk.

  “It’s all coming along swimmingly. The village council is cooperative. They say we can take what we need if it gets the job done. So for a start, I shall be wanting that.” Shaani pointed toward the town fortifications. “It’s perfect. I can’t believe it’s in such good condition.”

  “What, the village wall?”

  “No, the giant moon buggy.” Shaani waved for a stone jug of ginger beer, anything but the water or the omega ale. “Here. Finish up and I’ll show you.”

  The rat wolfed down a last mouthful of food and tugged Xoota to her feet. Wig-wig smothered her plate and finished her dinner then started on the leftovers at another table. Xoota hurried after Shaani, collecting the earwigs before they started eating up the patrons.

  Outside in the streets, the nighttime sky blazed with stars. An aurora australis shimmered brilliantly high above the south horizon. Xoota stood for a moment to admire the sight then followed the earwigs as they stampeded off in pursuit of Shaani.

  The white rat stood beside the village wall. The town guard, citizens drafted to walk the walls, kept watch for threats from the outside world. Others were standing and discussing the wall, pointing and talking. They seemed to have already been in consultation with Shaani. Shaani borrowed a broom that was leaning against the side of the tavern stables, swept a patch of dirt to make a drawing board, and squatted down to scribble in the dust with a stick.

  Budgie strutted over to the fence, chortling away. The bird chattered merrily at Xoota as she scratched him behind the skull.

  “Hello, Budgie,” the bird said to her.

  “Yeah, hello, Budgie.”

  “Hello. Hello, Budgie.” The bird twittered and bobbed in glee. “Hello. Hello.”

  Xoota grimaced. Like that wasn’t going to get annoying. “Did you teach him that?”

  “Yes, he’s a very quick learner. Later on we shall try to teach him to whistle.” Shaani had finished preparing her drawing boar
d. “Right. The plan. For a start, we shall need that.” She pointed to the moon buggy. The thing had been a vast truck designed to explore far-off worlds. The damned thing was almost twenty-five meters long.

  Xoota pushed her goggles to the back of her head in puzzlement. “You do know that thing doesn’t go, don’t you?”

  “Not now.” Shaani looked up at the vehicle in delight. “But look at it. It’s perfect.” She tapped her big chisel teeth in thought. “Oh, and I’ll need a work party. Um, a wheelwright, a mechanist, a blacksmith, and a seamstress. I think the locals will all pitch in.”

  Xoota was intrigued. She squatted down beside the rat, suddenly admiring her. “Pitch in? What are you making?”

  “Here.” Shaani began to sketch. “We work with just the frame of the moon buggy. Eight wheels, balloon tires, spring suspension …” She pointed to the ruins and the rubble. “We take masts from the old yachts, leftover sails. To our wheelbase, we fit a bowsprit and two masts. Rig her as a gaff-rigged schooner. We can even try a sky sail.” She began modifying the sketch of the buggy, turning the long-bodied, ungainly looking vehicle into a ship. “We enclose the hull with cabins taken from wrecked ships and yachts. The water tank will act as a low center of gravity for ballast. As we remove water, we replace the weight with sand bags as necessary.”

  Xoota was enthralled. “Will it move?”

  “In a decent breeze, I can’t see why we wouldn’t get a good thirty kph out of her. In a full breeze or a gale, she’d race like lightning.”

  “What happens if she gets becalmed?”

  “Ah. Now this is the clever bit.” The rat drew a diagram full of symbols and lines. “The moon buggy runs off electric power. There are motors sealed in the wheel hubs.” The rat sketched again. “Now we don’t have power generators, but we do have metal and glass, so we can make banks of capacitors to store a charge. When we use the wind, the magnets and wire in the wheels will be generating electricity. We store that in the capacitor plates. If we need to move the ship without wind, we reverse the power flow and use the capacitors to power the motors. QED.”