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“THE LOOTING... US, I mean,” Tali said, “it’s peoples’ lives...”
“Don’t let it bother you,” Myrch said.
Dun said, softer, “I’ve got a feeling it doesn’t matter. I don’t think they’re coming back.”
The others didn’t dare to ask if it was a foretelling or just a hunch. Dun didn’t have the heart to tell them it wasn’t, but something about the totality of the Machine-folk absence and Myrch’s assured reaction told him all he needed. No special powers necessary.
They carried on, moving from abandoned stall to abandoned stall replenishing their supplies. The stalls were laid out in avenues of careful spokes radiating from some kind of communal area in the center. Except for weapons, they found everything they could have wanted, food, blankets, rope. Tali even found some more potion ingredients and glass flasks. There seemed to be a communal drinking water fountain in the center too and presumably another sound-damping curtain, as the fountain’s gentle trickle was all they could hear. Dun thought this would be a lovely meeting place, imagining the murmur and laughter of a people at work. No lingering scent here, the damp mist from the fountain had dispensed with that. They filled some water bags they had found at a plastic goods stall. Dun drank most of his and filled it again. The water was clear and fresh tasting, so unlike other water courses down here. Was it different water? Or did the Machine-folk have the technology to alter it, freshen it in some way? Filter it? Back home at the Bridge, sip-reeds were a favorite: fresh young reeds of a type that imparted the fresh-cut plant flavor to the water. Gods, they were so far from there now. What he wouldn’t give to be back there. No, far as they were, he wouldn’t swap. Least of all now he was so close to finding out one of their goals: What had happened to the Machine-folk?
“Come on,” Myrch said “Let’s move on. I think we’re running out of time.”
“For finding the Machine-folk?” Dun said.
“Yeah, that,” Myrch said.
“Which way?” Dun said.
From a cursory circuit of their small respite, Dun had discovered each of the routes radiating out—there seemed to be eight—had a different number of stripes on its carpet. It took a while for him to work out the different sensations under his feet, but he worked it out in the end.
“Hmm... left,” Myrch said. Not the way they came in, but not the straight route through the cavern.
“Why that way,” Padg said. “Out of interest.”
“I don’t know,” Myrch said. “Why not?”
The sensation of leaving their small oasis was strange, they walked out through the “sound curtain” and back into the echoing market hall of competing sounds, chirps and twangs, bells, and voices, following the path with three stripes underfoot.
“Last chance to grab any bargains!” Myrch said.
“We’re fine. Thank you,” Tali said.
“Suit yourself, might be a while till you’re back this way,” Myrch said.
Dun couldn’t help but mentally check his pack. He and Padg had one sword-spear each left. They’d both found two nice, but short knives, clearly not meant to be weapons, but anything might do in a pinch. They had enough provisions now: new sacks, bedrolls, and water pouches. He walked on after the others with that uneasy feeling that he’d forgotten something but knowing at the same time he hadn’t. He shook his head and jogged on to catch the others up.
After the market was a non-descript joining corridor, one or two indents either side implying doors but nothing more interesting. One of the doors yielded a storeroom full of large empty plastic crates on investigation, the other a room with three walls full of gently clicking machines, all whirring and blowing warm air.
Before anyone could step in to investigate, Myrch intervened. “Don’t go any farther into there. Who knows what these do.”
“What are they?” Dun said.
“My guess,” Myrch said, “controllers. They do simple things: maybe operate a door or a fan, could store some words to play back under certain circumstances—that kind of thing.”
“Wow,” Padg said.
“But don’t touch. If they are controllers, we don’t want to be turning off the controls to a door we might want to get through, or alerting our presence to anyone who might be here before we’re ready to meet them.”
“Feels a little like a room of unsprung traps,” Dun said.
“Yeah, that too,” Myrch said.
They all backed out and closed the door quietly.
Turning back the way they were headed they felt a distinct, thick breeze ooze warm and lazy toward them. The corridor smelled warm and faintly of sulfur. The smoothness of these corridors continued to impress Dun. What cycles of work had it taken to complete them? Then they walked out into the deepest space they’d ever encountered.
The floor beneath them was perforated in some fashion, metal-smelling, but Dun could feel through it with his air-sense. In many ways, he wished he couldn’t. Beneath their feet was a sheer drop, too far for Dun to feel the bottom. Luckily there was a rail in front of him. He grabbed on and held on with both hands and steadied himself. Padg and Tali did the same. The room seemed to be a vast cylinder, as high up as it was deep down. It’s far walls detectable to air-sense, maybe two hundred fifty to three hundred strides across, accessible to the other side by way of a bridge in the same translucent metal material they were standing on. The place had the feel of some kind of temple.
“What is...” Dun said.
“I have no idea,” Myrch said, cutting him off.
“Impressive though, isn’t it?” Padg said.
“That it is,” Myrch said.
“Beautiful,” Tali said.
The warm air was rising up to them, not a breeze as such, just a continuous convection current. They stood for a while in mute appreciation.
A folk who could do this, Dun thought, what must they have been able to accomplish? But that didn’t sit easily in his head with the Machine-folk tinkers who’d arrive at the village with interesting trinkets, clever toys and sell them for a few trade strips, which they’d inevitably end up spending on food anyway. It was almost as if...
But Dun’s thought faded there. There was a huge click sound and slowly from the depths of the pipe the air started to move faster up toward them. They could smell more of the metally-oily warmth from below and then with the smell came the noise of dozens of fans. Tali leaned over the rail, her face into the warm current.
“Wow!” she shouted over the rising noise. “This is incredible! Come and feel this!”
Padg joined her and leaned in. “Whee-hee! That feeeeellls weird.”
As the rush of air was picking up speed Padg could start to feel it ruffle his hair and pull on the sides of his face. Dun tried too, briefly, Myrch was ominously absent. The air was now rushing past them, talking into it was becoming harder.
Myrch shouted from the opposite side of the chamber to the one they’d come in, “Out! Now!”
Dun was already pulling away from the edge of the rail and freed himself. Padg had more trouble, and Dun helped pull him free against the rising vortex of the heating wind. Padg, in turn, had to pull Tali free. Dun, having reached the rail at the wall of the room grabbed hold with one hand and shouted.
“Grab my hand! Padg!’”
Padg did and Dun pulled along the outside rail toward the last noise he’d heard from Myrch. Padg held tight to Tali’s hand and heaved her along as Dun pulled him. Dun placed Padg’s first hand on the rail.
“Grab the rail and pull Tali!”
Dun, once the three were secure on the rail started, edging along toward where they supposed the door and Myrch to be. Then as they thought the cacophony couldn’t get any louder, a harsh honk broke out, swirling around them.
HONK HONK HONK
“Run!” Myrch shouted.
“We can’t!” Dun shouted back against the wind.
“You’d better!” Myrch hollered back. “Door’s closing!”
“Gods! Come on!” shouted Dun to the others and pulled hand over hand along the rail, feeling out at each grab in front to be careful of where the rail went and behind to make sure each time that at least Padg was behind him. Padg himself would have to check for Tali. The pulling got harder with each reach.
HONK HONK HONK
“Come on! Come on!”
Myrch’s voice at least seemed louder now, although only just in the swirl and pound of the rising vortex. Dun pulled, but Padg had stopped.
“Tali’s slipped! Help.”
Then Myrch’s voice came from the door, “Dun! Grab my hand, now!”
“No! The others!” Dun said.
“Forget th—” but Dun had gone again.
HONK HONK HONK
Dun reached back over Padg to grab Tali’s one hand, he couldn’t find the other. There was a lot of weight on the hand on the rail but she had a firm grip on it.
“Help.’”
HONK HONK HONK
Myrch’s yelled again in a strained voice, “I can’t hold this door for... ever”
Dun pulled with all his might on Tali’s arm but there was too much weight in the wrong place.
“I’m...” Tali said.
“No, you don’t,” Dun said. “Hold on!” Then to Padg, he said, “Hold on tight to the hand on the rail, grab her wrist if you can!”
“Not letting go, don’t worry!” Padg said.
HONK HONK HONK
“Come... on!” Myrch shouted.
Dun reached past Tali’s hand on the rail, grabbed a firm grip, and leaned himself out into the wind. His hand touched Tali. He grabbed a clump of fur and held on for all his might.
“Where’s your other hand?” he shouted. “Grab on!”
“Can’t!” she said, panting. “Hurt.”
HONK HONK HONK
“Kay,” he said. “Padg! Go to Myrch! Stop the door.”
“Can’t,” he said, “Tali!”
“Go!” Dun said.
Dun reached around Tali and pulled her close into the rail with all the strength he had.
“How’s the arm?” he said in her ear.
“Okay, hand hurt.”
“Okay.” He hooked her arm over the rail. “Now hold on and I’ll push.”
HONK HONK HONK
“Dun!” Myrch shouted. “Oh, Padg.”
Padg edged past Myrch jammed between the closing metal door and the wall, heaving. He reached over his shoulder and pulled free his last sword-spear and rammed it into the gap. His spear blade under the door, and his butt against the wall. He could hear Dun’s voice now.
“Come on, nearly there.”
HONK HONK HONK
“Padg!” Dun’s voice was really close now. “Grab Tali’s hand. Pull!”
He pulled and the sword-spear gave a sickening creak.
“Dun! Get in now! Myrch shouted.
HONK HONK HONK
“Come on!” Dun shouted.
There was the sound of splintering wood.
Then silence.
