The bottom line is this: I did trust Mott. He had wisdom. I found myself starting to believe he had a grown-up mind in a sixteen-year-old skull.
We worked our way deeper into the machine. Huge pipes the size of water mains ran vertically from the top of the machine down through a circular opening in the floor. Mott didn’t hesitate; he lowered himself down the hole and vanished.
“Mott?”
Shit. He’d gone. I squatted there. The engine hissed, shuzzed, whirred, hot air blew into my face, and I asked myself did I want to descend into the bowels of that thing? Whatever product that hardware made I didn’t know, but as far as I was concerned it manufactured danger. I didn’t feel safe here. At any moment I expected a piston to ram along this tunnel and make my face go pop!
Mott’s head reappeared. “Come on, Soldier, don’t dawdle, otherwise the others will report us missing in action.”
I wormed my way down the hole after Mott. There were handholds set in the shaft, so it was easy to descend the twenty feet or so into a tunnel (confession: My legs were a mass of trembles).
Mott carried the lance over his shoulder as he led the way. The big pipes ran along the passageway, too. I touched one of them. It was hot. Vibration tickled my fingers. Either gas or fluid sped through.
“So where are we going?” I asked.
“I’m taking you to the Girl Farm.”
“The what?” Again, I thought I’d misheard him.
“The Girl Farm, Soldier.” Mott’s voice sounded as if his emotional voltage had just been turned up somehow—there was anticipation, excitement, and a quivering eagerness. “When I say Girl Farm, I’m not saying it’s like a pig farm, or—or a chicken farm. They don’t farm girls there.”
This baffled me as much as it intrigued me. As I followed him along the gloomy tunnel, he continued talking.
“Kids don’t talk about stuff like puberty,” he said. “I was about your age when it hit me. ’Round about twelve. You know? The usual stuff, hair on the nuts, hair under the armpits, bum fluff on the upper lip.”
“Bum fluff? Where do you find those phrases?”
“I grew up with them, I suppose. Anyway, puberty. Has it got you yet?”
“No. At least I don’t think so.”
“You’ll know when it does. I’m not talking about bum fluff on the face here, or your voice getting all deep down and low. I’m talking about heat in the blood. When puberty started in me it was like my blood had caught fire. All those hormones were like napalm. This huge blast of energy went roaring through me. I couldn’t sit still. I wanted to run all the way ’round the world. Give me a shovel and I could have dug you a hole to the center of the earth. It’s like lycanthropy—you follow? I felt as if puberty was transforming me into wolf man.” He shot a wolfish grin back at me. “Which might not be that far from the truth. I started to think like a wolf.”
“What do you mean?”
“Girls…Before puberty, girls are annoying. After puberty girls are…well, you’ll find out for yourself.”
“You’re saying you’ve found girls down here?”
“I certainly have, Soldier.” His grin broadened. “See for yourself.”
* * *
—
Just a few hours ago, I’d ventured out onto the Factory Floor. I’d cleared infestations of viper ivy from the machine. Then I’d crawled through the guts of a monster of an engine that was all spinning turbine blades, blurring drive shafts, and assorted rotating metalwork. None of that compared to what I saw now as I stood there in the tunnel beside Mott.
“Girls,” he whispered. “I told you there’d be girls.”
That scene in front of us was so remarkable, because it was so ordinary. So down-to-earth. So normal.
I’d started to become used to the notion of Bog Hornets, the Factory Floor, with its swamp and its lake. Heck, I’d even begun to digest the bizarre situation that I’d stumbled into. That somehow I’d been drafted into an army of young people that defended a fortress deep underground—and in a mysterious location where there were no adults. This was kingdom of the kids. I’d actually begun to accept all that weirdness.
So, just like Mott, I stared openmouthed at the miracle that was the Girl Farm.
Just fifty feet or so from us, a window looked out onto a grassy lane that ran away between two fields full of golden wheat. A girl of around thirteen walked away along the lane. Two more girls stood in the wheat field. They were busy working, their heads bent down as they scanned the crops. Rippling waves ran through the field as a light breeze came.
“What are they doing?” I whispered.
“Working the fields,” Mott said. “See? They’re pulling weeds out from between the stalks of wheat.”
Indeed they were. They teased out green plants, which they dumped into cloth gingham satchels that hung by their sides. The two girls wore checked shirts and jeans. And even as a twelve-year-old, I could admit to the fact that they were very pretty.
I still talked in whispers. “Who are they?”
“No need to whisper. They can’t hear us.” To prove the point he cupped his hands around his mouth. “Hello! Planet Bastion to Planet Girl Farm! Are you receiving? Over!”
His voice echoed away. The girl on the lane carried on walking. The other girls continued working with a careful delicacy, removing unwanted intruders from the wheat crop. None had heard his shout.
“Mott? How long have you known about this?”
“How long?” He gave a regretful smile. “I really can’t remember.” He shook his head. “You’re so right, Soldier. I’ve got a lousy memory. Everyone has in Bastion. You’re the only one that remembers.”
“We should make contact.” Eagerly, I took a step forward.
“Whoa!” He grabbed my arm. “It’s not that easy. Look.”
My eyes moved to what he pointed at in the floor of the tunnel. “Shit. I never even noticed it was there.”
“The pit’s not bottomless. Although if you fall in, you won’t be coming back in a hurry.”
The tunnel was around fifteen feet wide. There, in front of us, was the opening to a pit. The opening extended the full width of the floor, then forward a good thirty feet until it reached a ledge, maybe five feet deep. This five-foot lip of concrete ran in front of the glass window that looked out onto what Mott had named the Girl Farm. The pit was easy to miss. The tunnel seemed even gloomier in contrast to the brightly lit fields.
I took a moment to examine this section of tunnel more closely. Two pipes were bolted to the wall. They were around three feet in diameter. They continued across the pit, still hugging the walls, before passing through a vertical concrete slab at one side of the window.
“Whatever we’re producing in the factory goes through there,” I said.
“Good point. So we’re trading.” He scratched his head. “Because I’m sure they produce the food we eat.”
“So why doesn’t anyone see the girls when it’s delivered?”
“It arrives in something like this.” He tapped the steel pipe that made a thrumming sound. “Somebody packs the food into plastic drums. Then it enters Bastion through a pneumatic tube. All we do is take the food drums out of the reception cages and haul them to the kitchens.”
“We’ve got to find a way to communicate with those girls somehow.”
“I already figured that out.”
“How?”
“With this.”
He reached into the thigh pocket of his camouflage pants and pulled out a flashlight. “One thing I can remember doing is using a light to attract attention.” He grinned. “But first, check this out.” He shined the light down into the shaft.
For one heart-stopping moment I thought I’d topple right in. The shaft was far deeper than I could have bel
ieved. At the bottom, I could just make out a flow of bright yellow liquid gushing out of a tunnel at one side of the shaft before pouring into another at the opposite side.
“Uck. Just like egg yolk,” Mott said.
I took a fast backstep. “Something tells me you wouldn’t want to put that stuff anywhere near your mouth.”
“And of course this big hole stops us reaching the glass. Once I did try crawling along the top pipe. The trouble, for one, it’s so slippery. Two: The pipe’s so hot it starts to cook your hands after a while.”
“We’re going to have to figure out a way. The girls might know important stuff.”
“So, you plan to start asking them more of your questions?”
“Of course I am. After all, there’s a chance they could get us out of here.”
“Why would we want to leave?” He began to sound defensive.
“Don’t you want to go home?”
“Bastion’s my home.”
“Is there ever a moment in the day when you think about your parents?”
He seemed relieved when he heard a splash from down in the pit. The sound allowed him to change the subject. “Did you hear that? There’s something down there.”
“Stand back from the edge, Mott. You’re too close.”
“Wait…I need to see what it is.” He shone the light down the shaft again. “Wow! John, grab a look!”
Cautiously, I looked down. A long, thin, dark-bluish shape circled the bottom of the shaft. I couldn’t see much in the way of detail; most of it appeared to be submerged in the yolky stuff.
“Seems to be some kind of reptile.” He sounded interested rather than frightened. “A croc or an alligator.”
“Yeah, well, I’m happy it’s down there and we’re up here.”
The creature squirmed in the yellow plasma (or whatever that liquid was). I glimpsed a long snout. I flinched backward. I’d just caught sight of a silvery eye staring up at me. The eye, despite the silver color, looked almost human.
“I reckon he sees us as supper,” Mott told me, and laughed.
The girl on the lush, green path between the fields had already vanished. The two that were pulling weeds were working their way to the left. In another few seconds they would move out of sight. After all, we had a restricted view of the countryside out there.
“If you’re going to make contact, you best do it now,” I said. “They’ll soon vanish.”
He began flashing the light at the glass. I saw the flash clearly enough. But would they?
“It’s bright sunlight out there.” I started to get anxious. “They’re not going to see a little flashlight like that.”
“Give them time.”
“Can’t we throw something at the window?”
“What you got to throw? Your boots? Your underpants? Trust me, Soldier.”
I locked my eyes onto the girls. One was already half obscured by the window frame. They both kept their heads down; they concentrated hard on finding those weeds that would hurt the crop.
My focus was so much on the girls and willing them to look up—to see the light—that although I heard a light skittering sound I paid no attention.
“Come on, come on…” Mott’s thumb worked the flashlight switch. “Come on, ladies. Look up. Behold the light.”
Skitter, skitter. This time I glanced in the direction of the sound. It came from the pit in front of me.
“Mott…”
“Damn, one’s already moved past the window.”
Skitter.
“Mott, the pit…”
“Come on, Miss. Mott’s sending you a telegram.” He persisted flashing the light.
Skitter. Skitter.
The sound grew steadily louder. Something was coming up the shaft toward us. Only it was much too dark to see what.
“Mott!”
“Patience, Soldier. She still might see the light.”
“Forget the girl, there’s—”
“John! She’s seen us!”
The girl had glanced up. Then her whole body lurched upright as she stared in our direction. Her look of wide-eyed astonishment was enough to make me forget the skittering sound. Even if that skitter had taken on a menacing quality.
“Look! She knows we’re here.” Mott started waving. “Hey…over here. Hey!”
They couldn’t hear us. That didn’t stop us yelling like maniacs. Or jumping up and down right at the edge of the pit.
Skitter.
The girl who’d seen us gestured to the one who had passed out of sight. To my surprise, another three girls appeared along with the one that had just moved out of vision. Five girls in all. One of the girls wore a long tartan skirt; over that was a crisp white apron. They put their hands to their mouths as if they were overwhelmed with emotion.
All five girls rushed toward the glass. I tried to imagine what they saw at the other side of the window. Perhaps there was a utilitarian concrete blockhouse. The pipes that ran through this section of tunnel must emerge out there on the girls’ side of the glass. Maybe all they normally saw was a large window set into the wall of the blockhouse. Beyond, would be darkness.
Not now, though.
Now there was light!
Skitter.
They raced to the glass. Straightaway, they cupped their hands around their eyes, pressed forward, and looked in.
The five went wild. They seemed to be screaming. I wasn’t sure if it was excitement or fury or terror.
Then they ran to the left. And vanished.
“They’ve gone,” I said in disbelief.
Mott frowned. “That’s strange.”
“Maybe they went to fetch others?”
“Maybe.”
Skitter. Skitter…
That sound. Icy shivers poured through me.
“Mott. Shine the light into the pit.”
He did as I asked.
“Shit!”
The roar thundered up the shaft. We stared down at the thing as it climbed toward us. The creature resembled an alligator. Its rough, bobbly hide was dark blue in color.
Maybe twenty feet in length, the lizard dug its claws into solid concrete so forcefully that chunks of the shaft’s wall seemed to explode. The claws dug in deep as the animal secured its grip there.
Then it climbed. The long snout opened to reveal sharp teeth. The silver eyes that were so humanlike glinted in its head. A tail swished behind it.
Gator-Raptor. Of course, I didn’t know the real name for the monster. But the tag seared itself into my head-bone and stayed there. Gator-Raptor was the name I invented there and then. And Gator-Raptor seemed perfectly apt for that menacing, prowling killer.
“Come on,” I shouted, “let’s get out of here!”
His response shocked me so much I thought my heart would rupture.
“No. Wait. We’ve got to see if the girls come back.”
“Mott, that thing’s going to rip us up!”
“It’s only halfway up the shaft. We’ve got time.”
“You don’t know how fast it can run. We’re stuck in this fucking tunnel, remember.”
“You run, then. I’ll wait.”
I stared at him. My heart pounded hard against my lungs. I could hardly breathe. “There’s a monster climbing up toward us, and you plan to wait there in the hope the girls come back.” I took a deep breath and yelled: “If this is what puberty does to you, then I don’t want it!”
“Just give them another minute.”
“In a minute those teeth are going to be in your throat!”
My eyes locked on the Gator-Raptor. Its humanish eyes locked on me. That kind of thing must be a man-killer. So a twelve-year-old kid would be no problem
at all.
He slapped me in the chest. “They’re back!”
Three girls appeared. They shouted. Not even the tiniest sound penetrated the glass. They started gesturing; those gestures consisted of flapping their hands up and down—did that mean sit down or wait? Two girls started to use their fingers to write letters in the air.
“What are they saying?” I asked.
“I don’t know. But it must be important.”
Their expressions were frantic. They appeared desperate to communicate some vital fact.
Skitter. I now heard the creature’s ferocious breathing. A growl rumbled in its throat. The thing was maybe ten feet below us. The way it easily climbed the vertical shaft told me plainly this beast was hungry, physically strong, and determined.
“Mott, we’ve got to go!”
“Just a few more seconds.”
“We’re going to die!”
Then the girl in the tartan skirt dashed up to the window. She’d taken off her apron. The white cotton garment was in her hands. She frantically opened it up.
A second girl helped her. They moved fast; they didn’t fumble; their movements were precise.
In one second flat, they’d opened up the apron, straightened out the fabric, then held it up to the glass so we could see.
Two words had been written across that crisp, white cotton.
HELP US!
The monster from the pit gave a thunderous roar.
“Okay.” Mott tugged my arm. “We’ve seen enough. Go!”
From Bastion Wars:
Artillery rounds containing liquid nitrogen did not harm the thousands of machines on the Factory Floor. They were, however, effective in freezing a Fluke, and thereby killing this pernicious enemy.
* * *
—
We escaped from the tunnel. That meant the Gator-Raptor was no longer a problem. No. The big problem waited for us outside. We emerged onto the Factory Floor to find that the battle had started.
Immediately, we heard whooshing sounds, followed by thunderous bangs.
“Artillery!” Mott yelled. “That means there’s a Fluke attack.”
Volume Ten Page 6