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FLUPPIT HELPED SHA-Cha try to concoct protection for Sari while she slept. What was the up that Ash-ka had spoken of? Something falling on them? More spiders? Fluppit had certainly had her fill of those. Chik-chik was helping too, fetching sticks he thought would be helpful in the construction of the makeshift canopy. Luckily, they had made camp in some kind of largely undisturbed storeroom, so there was plenty for him to go at, leaving Sha-cha and Fluppit with at least one hand free. Fluppit was hoping that Chik-chik wouldn’t find any nasty surprises in the boxes and piles of found things, but she and Sha-cha had to concentrate on the immediate vague and threatening doom rather than the entirely imagined ones in their heads. There was only so far one brain would stretch.
Between the storeroom and the door to the bubble was a corridor. The door for their room, long since wedged open and stuck there, faced the thick bulkhead door with the large wheel-lock at its centre. When they couldn’t hear Chik-chik muttering, they could hear struggling and discussion about how to get said door unsecured.
“Let me tie on the corners,” said Sha-Cha. “It’s not that I don’t trust your tying. No, actually it is.”
“It’s okay,” said Fluppit. “I was always bad at tying knots. Best folk for the job and all that. No Chicky, we don’t want one of those. Whatever it is.”
They had settled on a low canopy as being the easiest thing to construct, with the time and materials available. The most useful thing that Chik-chik brought was first. He found a long plastic pole, which they managed to divide into two with some help from one of the guards who had a serrated knife. Though the guard was taciturn, she was particularly practical and helpful, making holes in the pipe, helping make fixings to the ends of the stretcher. With some bending and tying they created two curved spans that they covered with a patchwork of found fabric and the lids of crates. In the end, what they’d created seemed like it would keep a surprise spider out from above. But how to prepare for the unknown? That was the real adventurer’s dilemma. Fluppit’s answer was the same as everyone else’s ever. Who knows?
Her reverie was broken by a cheer from the passage, where the team of guards had some success. “Good,” said Sha-Cha, “Hopefully we can get moving and get there quickly.”
“Is she that bad?” asked Fluppit. In reply, Sha-Cha placed a hand on Fluppit’s, squeezed gently, then beetled off to shoulder her bags.
Ash-ka’s boomed instructions, mostly telling people to wait. He sent some scouts, spaced, one after the other, issuing the same command to each: “No-sse to the ground, ff-ollow your nosse.” He sent four lots of scouts this way, through the huge door, closing it behind them each time . But when he opened it to admit a fifth, loud screaming greeted them all.
“Mind Sari,” she said over her shoulder to Fluppit.
“Got it.” Fluppit went round to the side of the stretcher, where Sari was groaning drowsily, and placed a hand on her head. “It’s okay, we’ll be going again in a few clicks.”
“What are we doing, Flup?” said Chik-chik.
“I don’t know yet,” said Fluppit, pulling up a box, “but you sit there and don’t move.”
“Lay me out some more blankets and some of that squishy stuff from in the crates,” said Sha-cha, helping a hobbling, whimpering guard through the door. “That’s it. Now help me lay him down.”
The scout in question was young, a handful of cycles older than Fluppit. It was as if he was having seizures, but he somehow wasn’t. Incoherent babble came streaming out where words or even squeaks should’ve been. He writhed on the makeshift bed. He convulsed, grabbing Fluppit behind the neck and pulling her close. She could smell adrenaline and fear on his breath.
“They’rethere allthere allofthem somany
toomanytocount morethanhairsonanAlpha.
ALL OF THEM, BURNING INTO ME!”
He let go of her and fell back. With the shock of it, Fluppit could only grab his hand as he fell, but his head bounced off the floor anyway. She hoped their improvised hospital mattress was thick enough to cushion the blow. She briefly thought if he banged his head, he couldn’t be any worse, but then realised that was unkind and regretted it. Sha-cha was rustling in her bag beside her. She emerged with a flask and unbunged it. A wave of ethanol engulfed them.
“Gods! What is that?” Fluppit shrank back.
“Fire-spirit.” Then to the young scout on the mattress she said, “Here.”
“Shreds,” said Fluppit, “you’re going to make him drink it?”
“Yes, I’m going to make him drink it.” She lifted the mouth of the vessel to his lips. “It’ll sedate him a little. The poor fella’s suffering.”
Fluppit was surprised when Sha-cha squeezed what had previously seemed like a solid container. The young scout coughed, gulped, and then coughed again. Just when Fluppit thought he was going to choke, he swallowed, gasped, and said, “More!” It was the first coherent thing he’d said. He gulped down all of what was in the container, panted and then lay back on the mattress, expelling all the air in his lungs. Fluppit thought it might have killed him, but then he started breathing again, shallowly, but regularly.
“What do you think happened to him?” she said to Sha-cha.
“Honestly? I have no idea.”
“ALL OF THEM—" The scout’s bark made Fluppit leap.
When Sha-cha had settled him, she sat on the floor cross-legged and sighed.
“Is he going to be okay?”
“I also have no idea about that, Fluppit. No idea at all.”
