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THERE WAS A TWITCH of whiskers then the smell of fear. Padg didn’t even have the time to cry out. The beast was on him.
Sword-spear already drawn, he thought he’d caught it with the blade as it crashed into him but he couldn’t tell. Gods, the thing was fast. He was bowled off his feet with the momentum and sat in the watery pipe with a splash.
“Where the hells is it?” Padg shouted.
“It went over my head and up the pipe,” Tali said.
“Everyone okay?” Myrch said.
“I’m bruised but okay,” Padg said.
“Tali? Dun?” Myrch asked.
“Missed me,” Tali said. “Dun? Dun...”
“I... think. I think it got me, I’m... cut. It cut me. Something metal, I think.”
Tali was there in a click, “Hells, Dun, sit down.”
“But the pipe... it’s... wet.”
“Sit!” she said.
He was bleeding badly from his stomach. Tali’s hands were sticky already and the sweetly metallic smell didn’t normally turn her stomach, but somehow it being Dun’s blood made the nausea worse.
“You two, guard us here while I patch Dun up,” Tali said.
“We’ll give you as long as we can,” Myrch said.
“Got that flask, Tali?” Padg said.
“Backpack, side pocket. Fish me a needle and twine out of the same side while you’re in there.”
“On it.”
“Thanks,” Tali said as Padg handed over the needle and headed to the front of the party. He found a tense Myrch when he got there.
“Any signs?” Padg said.
“None,” Myrch said. “Damn, but that thing was quiet.”
“Hmm, and fast too.”
“Can you two pipe down back there? I’m going to see if Padg can listen,” Myrch said to the groaning noises and shushing from behind them. “Well?”
“Nothi...”
“What?”
“Wait... there’s something. It’s right at the top end of my hearing. It’s higher than bat-noise. A tiny, tiny, squee kind of noise. It’s nothing like any creature I’ve ever heard before.”
“I don’t think it is like any creature you’ve ever heard before. Not any natural one anyway.”
“What do you think it is?”
“I’m guessing, but I think its some kind of machine,” Myrch said.
“But I heard it, smelled it; it’s like a rat.”
“But it’s not one, is it?”
“What else did you smell?”
Padg thought. “Something chemical, inorganic. Like that oil stuff that Tinker-folk use on found things to make them work again.”
“Oil. Exactly.”
“I don’t understand,” Padg said.
“I think, it’s part machine, part beast. A rat missile, if you like. Smart enough to have its own intelligence and behaviors, but with a machine half to give commands and maybe weapons.”
“Gods, that’s terrible,” Padg said. “Who would do such a thing?”
“Honestly,” Myrch said, “I don’t know, but whoever it is, I think that thing wants us dead.”
“But wh—” Dun said.
“It's coming!” Padg said.
“Above!” Myrch shouted.
A low rapid series of fut noises battered out while Myrch cursed. Padg flailed his sword-spear. A whish of air and the creature crashed into the weapon and threw Padg back off his feet.
“Dang!”
“Watch...”
“Tali!”
“No!”
Then it was gone again.
“Oh no!” Tali spoke first out of the chaos.
“You okay?” Myrch said.
“Yeah,” she said, “which is more than I can say for my backpack. That blasted thing shredded it on the way past. I had it over my head to fend it off.”
“I think it’s trying to get me,” Dun said. “Why would it want to do that?”
“Time for that later,” Myrch said, clipped. “Ready for another attack.”
“Padg,” Dun said, “toss me that flask. You’ve got your hands full. I want to feel a bit less useless.”
Dun clicked his tongue and Padg threw to the sound. Then the rush of air again and the thing was on them. There was a crash of glass and liquid splished. A screech that was neither animal or mechanical.
“Ahhhhh!” Dun shouted.
“You little... nnng!” Padg shouted. “Got you!”
Gone again.
“Winged it properly this time, did you?” Myrch said.
“I think I got the spear tip into it. I felt it snap. Yeah,” Padg said, feeling the weapon, “the ends gone.”
“I think Dun got it too,” Tali said. “He got us anyway.”
“Yeah, urgh, what is that stuff. It's awful,” Dun said.
“It’s sticky,” she said.
“Yeah I know,” Dun said.
“It’ll slow it down, hopefully,” she said.
“Better had!” Myrch shouted, “Here it comes!”
The futs rattled out again. Myrch splished forward in the pipe, the futting continued. Thrashing, splashing, screeching noises. More futting, screeching, and then more futting. Keening, thinner, silence. Then just the trickle of the water in the pipe.
There was a faint wet crunch as Myrch toed the creature with his foot.
“Careful,” Padg said.
“Don’t you worry about me,” Myrch said, amused. “You go and get patched up.”
“Who’s going to patch me up?” Tali said.
“Moaner,” Padg said. “You always land on your feet regardless!”
A little beyond the remains of the rat-missile was another short intersecting pipe. Padg explored it and found it to be a dead end. They dragged themselves and the remains of their kit into the pipe and holed up.
“Gods, this backpack’s trashed,” Tali said.
“Have you lost much stuff?” Dun said.
“A good load, yes.”
“Sorry,” Dun said.
“Idiot,” Tali said, poking him.
“Ow!”
“I think I’ve still got some wound cream in here, and I’ll give you something to drink for the pain. It may make you drowsy.”
It did. He slept soundly, woken only by the aching in his stomach wall. That was a hell of a fight. He tried to sit up but whatever it was that Tali had done to help his wounds start to knit hurt like hell. He supposed here was as good a place to rest as any and drifted back to sleep.
