by Rick Johnson
ThunderUp suddenly felt his guts wrenching. Feeling light-headed and nauseous, he slumped to the ground. Tē’d’Tē knelt beside him, rubbing his cheeks and paws until he came around.
“Why?” he said, looking in Tē’d’Tē’s eyes.
“Silverpreen is hell described as glory,” the Weasel replied grimly. “Nothing matters to Frunge but keeping the Silvers and Preens happy. And they don’t want wee beasts around—their beloved lizards are easier to handle—so the wee ones power the leaps that keep the place running. That’s why.”
Taking several deep breaths, ThunderUp stood again. “All right,” he said, “I’ll do as you say. I started out looking for Colonel Snart, and I found him, but it’s all gone wrong somehow.”
“You were looking for Snart?” Tē’d’Tē exclaimed. “Why?”
“He tried to kill me,” ThunderUp replied. “I wanted to return the favor.”
“Weeee,” Tē’d’Tē whistled, “you don’t do things in a small way do you?”
“Well, I found him,” ThunderUp replied with a half-smile.
“Yes, I know he came in on the dragon-train,” Tē’d’Tē said. “That’s why I’m here. I want to be on the ship that’s taking him to see the High One. Fastest way to get there, and that’s where I’m headed, too.”
“You’re going to see the High One?” ThunderUp said. “You don’t do small things either, do you?”
“Just have a bit of mail for him, and want to make sure it gets delivered,” she smiled.
“And what about your getup? Is that some kind of costume or what?” ThunderUp chuckled, looking Tē’d’Tē over.
“It’s a disguise. I’m not exactly supposed to be here either,” the Weasel smiled. “Once you’re in Silverpreen, there’s no way out, unless you bend the rules a bit. An old friend of mine got me passage on that ship, working as a guard. So, this is my guard uniform. I’ve been waiting here until the Cargo-Master comes on duty to load the ship. There he is—over there. Tē’d’Tē nodded toward a short, squat Raccoon who was overseeing cargo being loaded on leaps. The leaps then lifted it up to the wharf, several stories above the Leap-Bug level.
“He knows who I am,” she continued, “and will let me board. Once I’m on the ship, I’ll be safe in my disguise. But until I’m aboard, I’d have a hard time explaining myself to Club Wolf patrols, who know all the local guards.”
Adjusting her helmet, Tē’d’Tē extended her paw to ThunderUp. “Look,” she said, “I can’t talk more now. My advice is that you don’t stay in Silverpreen any longer than it takes to get out of it. Go to Currie and tell her what I said. That’s all you need to know. That’s all I can do for you now.”
Tē’d’Tē quickly gave ThunderUp directions to Currie’s flat. “And remember, don’t take the streets from here to her place. If you get stopped and don’t have a letter of invite from Frunge, it’ll be trouble. The only way to avoid that is to go through the lower Leap-Bug levels. No one pays a rat’s toenail of attention to who’s down there. No one goes there unless they’re forced to, so nobody’s going to ask for your Frunge letter. Conceal yourself as close to that barrier over there as you can. There’s a pile of crates behind us—food for the Leap-Bugs. Hide and wait until you hear two bells. That’s the warning for workers to get out of the way, because the food leap’s about to descend to the lower levels. While the workers are pulled back, you’ll have a few seconds to jump on the leap. Ride the crates down to the lowest level. When you land down there, watch for your chance to get away.”
Looking fondly at the Badger, she continued, “The time’s come for us to go our separate ways. We hang around too long, and we might meet Colonel Snart, which wouldn’t work very well for either of us, I’m afraid. Good-bye, friend.”
Then the Cargo-Master called the workers aside for a conversation, making sure everyone’s backs were turned to the ship. Seizing her chance, Tē’d’Tē stepped boldly out of the shadows and stepped onto the leap. Although not calling attention to ThunderUp standing in the shadows, she cast a glance at him as the leap rose and disappeared from view.
ThunderUp’s head was reeling. Just a few days go, he had been a happy-go-lucky shark lugger at Tilk Duraow, making a good living in Wrack terms, and strong in Belonga. So much had happened since then, he didn’t even feel like the same beast anymore. He was confused, perplexed, and angry at just about everything. If Belonga was so perfect, how had Tilk Duraow been destroyed so easily? If the High One’s order was so good, why had Colonel Snart tried to kill him? And what was this about turning children into Leap-Bugs? It was all too much for the his poor brain to understand.
“Maybe Knuckles’s no crazier than I am,” ThunderUp thought. “Maybe it’s all craziness, and we just carry the disease to each other. Maybe my disease is a better disease than Knuckles’s. Ha-ha-ha! Now there’s a thought!” The thought amused him and terrified him at the same time. There are places in the mind that are so terrible, only the cruel are not afraid to go there.
“Confusion’s it’s own rot,” the Badger muttered. “Belonga! Why, it’s like me puttin’ a blue belt on my pants and Knuckles puttin’ a green one on her’s. Both hold up the pants. Keep the buckle tight, and who cares if I like blue best! Except that blue’s not workin’ out very well for me right now…Ayah! Confusion’s it’s own rot. Well, for now, seems the best is to do what the Weasel said.”
Creeping carefully to the barrier Tē’d’Tē had indicated, ThunderUp crouched behind a column and waited. Peering from this concealed place, he watched the unloading of the dragon-train. Workers carried cask after cask labled Silver/F. Sapperpate from the wagons to the leap. When the leap was full, the leap rose to the wharf level, where it was unloaded. As he waited, ThunderUp counted eighty-two casks of silver. How many more were there that he didn’t see? What could one beast possibly do with all that silver?
When the last of the silver had been loaded, the workers cleared away. The empty dragon-train departed, and only Club Wolf guards remained. Standing with them was Colonel Snart! With the dragon-train and workers gone, straining his ears, ThunderUp could catch snatches of what was being said.
“Three hundred sixty-seven casks of silver loaded safely, sir,” one of the Club Wolves said. “I checked them myself—all ship-shape.”
“And three for you, I trust,” Colonel Snart smiled.
“Oh, yes sir, thank you, sir,” the Club Wolf replied. “The other Clubs and I thank you most sincerely.”
“Just see that no one hears of it,” Snart said. “It would embarrass me greatly, and if Frunge found out, I’m afraid I’d have to accuse you of stealing.”
“Yes, sir. Understood, sir,” the Club Wolf answered.
“Don’t mention it anymore,” the Colonel said. “I take care of my troops—always have—and that’s all it is. Now, I’m going aboard ship.”
“Yes, sir,” the Club Wolf replied, saluting.
Snart! ThunderUp could hardly believe he was near enough to the hated Colonel to see his ears twitch slightly as he talked. “Oh, if only it was possible to destroy him now,” the Badger thought. “And why couldn’t I? He’s here. I’ve got him just as I wanted. I have the caccuti and thappa in my pack—enough to turn this entire miserable place into flowing slime. Just what Snart deserves.”
But now it was different somehow, not as he’d imagined. It was not just Snart, or even just Snart and himself. Tē’d’Tē would be turned to flowing slime as well. And what of the Leap-Bugs that were toiling somewhere below him? He had enough caccuti and thappa to liquefy—how much? ThunderUp didn’t know, but if he ever tossed the dozen cacutti he had into the thappa, it would horrendous. Now was his opportunity to finish the job he’d set out to do. Snart was even now walking to his fine cabin, smug in the embrace of his thuggy Club Wolves. But he, ThunderUp, a Wrack that no one counted as worth their time—except to lug their daily meat to them—he held the power to obliterate them all. Could he do it?
Pondering is easier than acting some
times, and for ThunderUp, this was one of those times. Fuming and snarling inside, he continued waiting. For what? To escape? To what? Tilk Duraow was no more. To go back to Wrack? For what? To shovel snails until his brains turned to sand? At least if he took out Snart and a big chunk of a city, he would have done something with his life. The pack sagging on his shoulders, heavy with caccuti and thappa, reminded him of how easy it would be—seconds would be all it would take. The reaction would be unstoppable. It was so easy, yet so hard.
At that point, his confusion was interrupted, when a wall slid open and a gaudy procession emerged. Hurrying along, as if not wanting to be looked at by the Club Wolf guards, a group of the finer citizens of Silverpreen arrived to board the ship. Exquisite velvet and the finest lizard-skin, fropperish hats and shoes with diamond buttons. Collars of silver lace and cuffs with golden embroidery. Silk and feathers of every color. Many of the fancy beasts carried fans, the size of umbrellas, using them to shield themselves from prying eyes. But the pet lizards were the most outrageous; one example wore a tight-fitting tunic of the finest linen and a fashionable, flowered cap with a wig of false hair curling down the lizard’s neck as he pranced on his leash. The faces of these fancy beasts looked all the same—pinched and paffed, stretched and pubbled, uniformly powdered a pale purple or green. Or perhaps, they were all powdered pale white, and it was just that the light was bad. ThunderUp couldn’t exactly tell, except that it was half disgusting and half ridiculous.
He had never in his life seen anything so absurd. In a flurry of colors and perfumes, the pompous spectacle passed, and the Silvers and Preens—for such they were—mounted the leap and rose to the wharf. The Badger’s brief introduction to the betters of Silverpreen only served to intensify his hatred of Snart and all those associated with him. For the next several hours, he did not know how long, he remained concealed, waiting for the promised two bells that would be his signal.
As he waited with increasing impatience, a vague idea grew in him that his life had been wrecked and his beloved Belonga disgraced, by such greedy, gaudy silver-guzzlers as he had seen boarding the ship. At least he was not such a ridiculous spectacle as that! Nothing could undo what had happened. His old world was dead. But he had not sunk so low as that. In spite of all that he had lost, he felt a strange feeling of triumph.
Snapping back from his reflections, ThunderUp was instantly alert. Worker beasts dropped away from the service leap loaded with food for the lower levels. As it began to descend, the Badger stepped aboard, unseen. Dropping quickly, the leap soon stopped on the lowest level. Jumping off as the leap slowed, ThunderUp entered a steaming, snarling world where machinery ruled all.
Hideous, demanding gears of immense size, forced revolving stairs to endlessly ascend and descend. Or did the stairs force the gears to turn? Did it matter? The turning of the gears, the revolving of the stairs, must continue. Long flights of revolving stairs plunged into gigantic pits, with no discernable bottom, carrying wailing beasts with them, as if they were being devoured. The steam! The smell! Body fluids and solids dripping and falling everywhere!
The Badger’s eyes watered. Everything became blurry. Steaming, flickering, constant motion—was nothing fixed and solid here? Things that were up, moved down, and things that were down, moved up. Right went left, and left went right. Clanking stairs marched every which way. He had to feel his way along, but body grease and waste clung to everything, making his stomach churn. Rubbing his eyes, again and again, it seemed that no matter how far he walked, all he could see was more stairways and gears—and wee beasts.
By Belonga! The wee beasts were the worst. The smallest ones climbing on stairs, that to save room were packed close together on top of one another. One revolving staircase cleared the one below by barely four feet, which made even the smallest beasts bend low, their bodies shaking. Those going up wailed like the furies of hell, and those coming down wheezed and groaned like the sobs of death. Place thousands of beasts in close quarters, with little ventilation, then make them work so hard, that they bleed sweat—imagine it. This was the work of Leap-Bugs.
Sickened by the grotesque sights and mind-numbing odors, ThunderUp leaned against a cart, gasping for breath. Wanting simply to close his eyes, to not see the breaking or broken wee beasts wailing and sobbing wherever he looked. He leaned against the cart and sobbed softly. Had he not been overcome at that exact moment and chosen to lean against that cart, ThunderUp’s story might well have had no other highlights than this. But as it was, he suddenly felt a tug on his pants. Looking down, he was surprised to find a wee Hare, pulling furiously on his pants leg. Bending over to take a look, he found he was standing on the Hare’s paw.
Quickly removing his boot from the Hare’s paw, he stooped down to offer apologies. The Hare, however, put a finger to his lips to urge silence. Motioning to step around the cart, the Hare disappeared. Following the Hare, ThunderUp found him crouched behind the cart.
The young Hare looked at the Badger intently. “What kind of Newbie are you?” the Hare asked. “How did you get here?”
“I didn’t mean to come here,” ThunderUp said, continuing to sob.
“Will you cut your whining!” the Hare whispered tensely. “Do you want to ruin everything? You’ll get us discovered!”
“I don’t know anything!” ThunderUp cried, nearly wild with pained confusion. “I don’t want to ruin anything! I don’t even know what’s going on anymore!”
“So, you claim you know nothing?” the Hare questioned.
“Yes!” ThunderUp replied. “I’m a lost beast—I’ve spent my whole life doing what some beast tells me to do, and then what another beast tells me to do, and then another—and now I don’t know what to listen to anymore.”
“How did you get down here?” the Hare asked. “No one’s allowed down here but Leap-Bugs and Club Wolves. That’s why I called you back here. If a Club finds you down here, you’ll never leave.”
“But I had to come here! Don’t you see?” ThunderUp hissed. “Another beast told me that the only way to get out of Silverpreen was to go through here! What am I supposed to do?”
“The beast was right,” the Hare replied, “if you don’t belong in Silverpreen, the safest place for you is with us Leap-Bugs—we won’t snitch on you. But you can’t stand there, in plain sight, crying your eyes out! The Clubs’d be on you in not time.”
“So now what do I do?” the Badger asked.
“Unless you want to be trampled, you can’t do anything right now,” the Hare said.
“What do you mean?” ThunderUp asked.
“Ten minutes from now, we’re going to reverse the leaps!” the wee Hare replied with a grim smile.
“What? Reverse the leaps?” the Badger asked.
“It’s never been done before!” the Hare said. “When the shift change bell rings—ten minutes from now—rather than switch with another beast in the normal way, so that the leaps keep moving uninterrupted, every beast is going to turn around and walk the stairs in the opposite direction.”
“What will happen?” ThunderUp asked, his eyes wide.
“First thing that happens will be everything that was going up, will go down. Everything that was going right, will go left. And all the machinery built to go only one direction will be wrecked!”
“Are you serious?” ThunderUp exclaimed, nearly too loud. Dropping his voice to a whisper, he said, “You’re serious aren’t you? You’re going to shut down the leaps!”
The Hare did not reply. He simply looked off at the Leap-Bugs climbing stairs and nodded, a smile cracking his face.
“What’s second?” ThunderUp asked. “You said what happened first, but what happens after that?”
“All the Leap-Bugs are going to walk off the job. Walk away from the stairs, and let the leaps go to hell!” The wee Hare, hardened beyond his years, continued fiercely, “There’s more Leap-Bugs packed in down here than all the beasts in Silverpreen—maybe three times as many. If we all walk off, the
city shuts down, and there’s not enough Clubs to stop us. The whole thing works so long as we let it. But we’re not scared of the Clubs anymore. There’s nothing they can do to us that’s worse than what’s already happened, and keeps happening, to the Leap-Bugs.”
“Where will you go?” the Badger said.
“We’re going to walk out of here, use the same stairs the Club Wolves use. If the doors are locked, we’re going to kick them down. When they try to stop us, we’re going to walk across their faces. And when we get to the upper levels, we’re going to walk right out in the streets of Silverpreen—right out into the sun and fresh air. Let all the fancy beasts see us as we are—let them smell us. We’re not going to stay anywhere they try to keep us. We’re going to walk into their shops, their cafés, anywhere we please.”
“There’s going to be trouble,” ThunderUp observed.
“Well, duh!” the Hare replied with a low laugh. “Of course there’s going to be trouble. Trouble’s nothing new to us. But this time, we’re going to make the trouble, on our terms. They won’t be able to keep us cooped up down here and deal with us out of sight. No—this time, the trouble will be out in the light, messing up their fine streets, invading their privacy. So, the second thing is, that we’re going to clear out of here.”
“It won’t be just Club Wolves, you know,” ThunderUp said.
“No, Frunge will call in Skull Buzzards and maybe, Battle Stallions, too. But we’ll outnumber whatever he brings in—and we won’t be alone either,” the Hare replied.
“You’ll have help?” ThunderUp said, with surprise.
“You’re here, aren’t you?” the Hare responded. “I can’t see you hitting me with a club, and they’ll be others like you. And there’s others Frunge counts on to do his work, who won’t be with him in this. When this blows—well, it’ll be the biggest thing that’s ever happened in Silverpreen. Just like we don’t know exactly what will happen, neither does Frunge.”