A far-off voice could be heard breaking through the darkness. The voice was followed by light that outlined a distant face with a head of hair filled with spider-webs.
Bars jumped in fright, but his heavy head made him stand nailed to the cold floor again. The pain hadn't fully stopped hurting yet.
“Stay still for a little while longer!” Thirteen said while pushing down on his shoulder. Then he turned and yelled. “Hey, guys! Bars is with us again”
Yazo threw down his tools and came over to where Bars' body was lying on the floor. Opatar just waved with his hand and continued to fiddle with something on his Shell.
“Well, look at you! I didn't think you had such a thick brainpan!” said Yazo looking at him, not believing his eyes. “I thought you wouldn't wake up ever again.”
“What?!....” said Bars trying to get up again, but he was still quite dizzy, so Thirteen had to help him up. Once Bars was able to sit up resting on his elbows, he succeeded in looking around. Someone had partially covered him with some rags and the floor was soaked with blood and filth.
“What in hell...!?!” exclaimed Bars touching his head and finding dried blood there.
“Will he be on his feet again soon?” asked Yazo with a serious look on his face.
“Who knows? It's a miracle that he was able to lift his head up after a blow like that,” replied Thirteen staring into Bars' eyes. “He could have a concussion or something like that. It's normal to look confused, dizzy and even to have some memory-loss.”
“How in the hell did you get here!!?” exclaimed Bars, now able to fully express his amazement. “I left you up there...lost in a labyrinth of ducts...”
“I don't get lost that easily, Bars! I would have gotten out sooner, if the flashlight hadn't died, but even so, I somehow succeeded in finding the right way,” said Thirteen grinning and pointed up. “I got out of that pipe right over your head. By the way, I'm sorry about the metal grate falling on your head!”
“If you only could have seen, how you collapsed!” suddenly interjected Yazo remembering the incident. “And seen all the blood...”
“That you've been able to come around so soon after that kind of hit on the head is absolutely unbelievable!” added Thirteen.
“Apparently, I'm lucky,” said Bars as he lifted his head. Then he suddenly remembered the Shell. “Help me get up. How long was I unconscious?”
“A long time. Too long actually.”
“And how much time is left?”
“About two hours,” answered Thirteen.
Everything started going black again and Bars almost collapsed to the ground again.
“Why didn't you try to bring me around earlier!”
“We tried,” replied Thirteen. “But it was a wicked hit. In the beginning, you didn't even show any signs of life.”
“That's right, and after a few hours had passed and without wanting to, I dropped a rather heavy pipe on you, and to our surprise, one of your legs moved,” shared Yazo. “That's when we realized that maybe there was a chance that you might recover. Your friend covered you in rags, so you wouldn't lose any body heat.”
“My friend?!” questioned Bars puzzled.
“He took care of you the whole time,” replied Yazo.
The dizziness and nausea had passed and now Bars began to feel revitalized as he started to get angry.
“There's only two hours left! How will I succeed in completing my Shell in that amount of time?!” The boys looked embarrassingly at each other.
“All of your metal was stolen by the other boys, when they realized that you were in a coma,” commented Thirteen. “Nothings left of what you gathered. Leegan and his pals took everything.”
“And all of you just stood there and watched him?!” yelled Bars.
“Have you seen his arms?!” sullenly replied Yazo.
“It's okay!” said Thirteen patting Bars on the shoulder. “I have an idea how we can work it out.”
“I’m finished!” Bars covered his head with hands.
Yazo slowly snuck away, to finish his Shell.
“I know that you still don't feel well after that hit on your head, but you have to get a hold yourself,” stated Thirteen with an unusually serious and deep voice that wasn't typical for such a little guy. “If we work together, we'll succeed. I'm sure of it!”
Bars looked at him in a way that he had never looked at any living being before and said with just as serious voice, “I don't want your help! Everything started to go wrong the moment you got on the elevator with me. First, the elevator got stuck, then everyone was angry with me because I was late, and now this – I don't have any metal for the Shell!” Bars looked around and it didn't make him feel any better. “Everyone else is just about ready! Only I don't have a Shell! How can I go outside?!...”
“You're not the only one without a Shell...”
“Why?... O, yeah. That's right! Zimmer hadn't collected any metal...”
“On the contrary, I can tell you that he has a strong shell. I meant to say...”
“What!?” Bars jumped and just about fell over backwards, but his surprise kept him standing stiff as a board. “What did he use to make his Shell? He hadn't collected anything? How's it possible?!”
Bars resented the unjust turn of events and he was at a loss as to how to express his rage. Because of the increasingly stressful situation, his head began to ache again stronger than ever. A small drop of blood came out of his nose.
“Zimmer made a deal. He offered to fine-tune the climate systems of the other guys' survival suits for a few pieces of material. Everyone accepted his offer, so he quickly collected the metal parts he needed.”
“Hmm, clever!” said Bars surprised at the elegant way, Zimmer had resolved his problems. “And I thought that this time he would fail...”
“Nooo,” said Thirteen. “I've known him a long time. He is so smart, it's scary.”
“It turns out that with everything that has happened that I'm the biggest loser. I don't have a Shell or a perfectly tuned climate system. Just wonderful!” said Bars as he sat down on the floor and sighed in defeat. “What a failure...”
“You're not the only one, Bars,” said Thirteen and tiredly stuck his hands into his pockets. “That's what I was trying to tell you. My survival suit also doesn't have a Shell.” Bars lifted his head in surprise and looked at the boy standing in front of him.
“What are you talking about?! You aren't even on the list for the Descent! There are an exact number of survival suits. There isn't a survival suit for you.”
“I'm going to use the model survival suit. It's an exact copy of the rest of them, it just doesn't have a number.”
Bars began to see Thirteen in a different light—this boy was really strange.
“Are you for real? Why do you want to get caught up in all of this before you have to?! You don't think that all of this is just some game, do you?”
“I absolutely understand what is going on, Bars, believe me. I just don't have a choice,” replied Thirteen turning away.
“What do you mean?” said Bars puzzled, but Thirteen wasn't ready to give him an explanation.
“Time's running out, Bars... We better get to work.”
“Okay, so be it,” said Bars lifting up and spreading open his empty hands. “Anyway my head feels like it's going to burst, if I have to listen more foolish absurdities like your reasons for taking part in the Descent most probably are. Now let's see what exactly is your idea for getting out of our current situation!”
“Here's what we’re going to do! I spent a lot of time thinking while you were resting on the floor,” said Thirteen quickly without noticing Bars' angry look. “We'll have to
split up the tasks, in order to finish in time! You are stronger - so you go to the pile and gather everything we need, and while you're doing that, I'll fix your survival suits manufacturing defect.”
“Just a minute! What did you say? I
checked out my survival suit - everything was working!”
“No! No, it isn't!” said Thirteen frowning.
“Damn it!” replied Bars.
“There's a leak in the upper section of your hull. Where did you think this brown junk was coming from!?” continued Thirteen. “That leak needs to be repaired! The worst case scenario will be that your helmet will not seal completely and it will depressurize a few hours after the Descent.”
“Ugh!” exclaimed Bars fully aware of what would happen to him if it happened.
“Don't worry, I've repaired even more serious defects than that.”
“Okay, then what is the original color of my survival suit?” wondered Bars.
Thirteen quickly took out of his pocket his multi-functional tool and used it to clean a little patch on the surface of the survival suit.
“Pink,” he answered.
“Don't clean it off!” exclaimed Bars stopping Thirteen. “Let's not waste any more time!”
“That's what I'm saying!” said Thirteen hastily. “Go get the materials!”
“You realize, don't you, that all the metal has been scavenged from the pile. All that's left are light, plastic pieces...”
“That's exactly what we need to begin with!” said Thirteen with a deliberate and concentrated look. “Believe me Bars, we have a chance!”
“I would be happier, if we had some strong metal parts,” sighed Bars.
“We'll add those later. Now they'll only get in the way. Stop wasting time, get going!” replied Thirteen, and then he lowered his voice. “There's something else, Bars! Don't tell anyone who I am for now!”
“Relax! No one's going to recognize you with such a dirty face and with those spider webs in your hair,” said Bars and left to pick through the left-overs from the pyramid of trash.
Time passed quickly, and Bars was still having difficulty using his limbs. It was as if he had become petrified from lying for so long on the cold floor. On top of everything else, hunger pains grabbed a hold of his stomach again, and he had a splitting headache that throbbed with every step he took. Slowly, but decisively, Bars walked toward the pile and with a heavy heart, he looked at the finished Shells of the rest of the boys. Most of the work showed an eye for detail, but when Bars saw Leegan's creation, he was speechless. The survival suit was covered with a heavy armor that had frighteningly sharp spikes and blades, which caught the attention of everyone around it. Leegan's friends - Vestule and Rogar also had brutal-looking Shells and were commenting excitedly on the amazing result.
Just then a powerful tremor violently shook the Fortress.
Bars fell to the floor. The Hangar was filled with the din of the anxious boys and screeching metal. The quake gradually subsided, but the scared boys didn't dare move a muscle yet. Only the survival suits, hanging on their chains, were swinging and clanking.
Then Bars stood up with determination and dusted off his skinned knees.
“There's only a little time left!” he said to himself and decided that he would no longer waste time staring at the other boys' shells.
Once he reached the central square, he quickly scanned what was left over in the gigantic pile and understood that he didn't have much of a choice – it was hardly possible that a strong Shell could be made from this garbage. The few remaining pieces of material were of utterly inferior quality and most of them were even unusable, but Bars began to collect whatever he could without dwelling on it anymore.
After making a few runs between the pile and the model survival suit, Bars began to feel better. The exercise warmed him up and he could now use his arms without any problems.
“That's enough,” said Thirteen, who had finished his repairs and was now looking over what Bars had brought. “Get rid of that, I won't need it! Why did you waste your time with that unused garbage?”
“Are you happy now?” asked Bars, after he had cleared away the unused garbage.
“Beautiful!” said Thirteen grinning.
“Thanks for repairing the defect! I still don't know how I missed it!” said Bars.
“Anytime you need help, you can count on me!” said Thirteen as he waved with his hand and then started working on his Shell.
Without wasting any more time, Bars returned to the pile and quickly collected a few more left over pieces. He brought his load to his survival suit and dropped it on the floor. Finally, he could start building his Shell. While he was thinking about where to start, he realized that it was unnaturally quiet around him. Hangar 3 was no longer filled with a noisy hysteria and fighting for materials. The boys' Shells were ready and now everyone was resting before the Descent. Yazo and Opatar were taking a nap, snoring. Yazo's head was hanging down and a long line of drool was coming out of his mouth dropping onto the side armor of his survival suit while Opatar was lying stretched right out on the cold floor. They were enjoying a well-deserved rest just like the rest of the boys.
Unlike them, Bars wouldn't have that chance. He only had a finite amount time to do whatever he could to insulate his survival suit. The extreme conditions that he was going to be exposed to would include all kinds of dangers.
One of the first things that he did was to cover the entire metal surface with special glue. It served two purposes; first it protected the survival suit from rust and secondly, it would serve as the foundation for the rest of the layers. Then came a layer of heat insulation, which was laid right on top of the glue and it helped to keep the energy used during cold temperatures at a minimum and also to protect the interior from over-heating in high temperatures. Bars was well-prepared and he didn't have any difficulties finishing these tasks nor did they slow him down unnecessarily. When he finished with the heat insulation, he climbed down off his survival suit to get the thin pieces of foil that protected against harmful rays. Bars would need a special tool for their installation, which he unfortunately couldn't find among his tools. It didn't surprise him since there had been a shortage of tools in the Fortress for the last few years.
Bars decided to look for it among Yazo's instruments, who at the moment was tossing and turning in his sleep.
“You don't need it anymore anyway,” said Bars quietly as he reached for Yazo's toolbox. Suddenly, Yazo's body twisted and the boy yelled in his sleep:
“They're everywhere!!....Nooo! No!”
“Calm down friend!” said Bars while patting Yazo on the shoulder. “You're just dreaming.”
“Run!” screamed loudly Yazo and Bars felt drops of spit cover his face.
“Hey, wake up!” said Bars as he unhappily shook him while trying to protect himself from any other nightmarish outbursts.
Startled Yazo suddenly opened his eyes, breathing heavily and quickly.
“Now, that's better, isn't it?” said Bars allowing the scared boy to get a hold of himself.
He couldn't lose any more time.
Attaching the thin foil to the survival suit required a considerable amount of attention and a steady hand. Bars did all he could to cover the most important parts, right where his head and body would be. There wasn't enough foil for the rest of the suit. There was only one last step and it included attaching pieces of rubber materials. They would protect the survival suit from physical impacts...somewhat. Bars had to improvise with what he had at hand. His survival suit wasn't going to be quite as secure, as it would have been if it had metal pieces, but it was better this way, than without anything.
By now, Yazo had got a hold of himself and he was gloomily watching how Bars was struggling with the old rubber pieces.
“I don't feel so good,” shared Yazo as he rubbed his puffy eyes. “I hate nightmares!”
Bars continued to attach the separate pieces without turning his attention to him, but Yazo began to describe with emotion what had happened in his dream.
“Everything was so real.... So, terrifyingly realistic! It was a good thing that you woke me up. I didn't want to see how that nightmare woul
d end!”
“Uh-huh,” mumbled Bars.
“I have a bad feeling!” Yazo became more gloomy and grabbed his head. “I hate bad feelings!”
“Knowing what's coming up, I think that it's completely normal to have a sense of foreboding,” said Bars, then he wiped his forehead, and added. “Hand me that crooked hook.”
“Normal?”
“Well, very soon, we'll leave, once and for all, the only home and secure shelter, we've ever known. We will roam this lifeless planet filled with dangers crammed inside these survival suits, whose Shells have been assembled from useless trash!” replied Bars.
Yazo threw him the crooked hook and returned to his survival suit, without another word.
“Yup, ...I'm also scared,” said Bars sighing, and then he began to look over his quickly thrown together Shell from every possible angle. Considering his lack of time and his lack of good materials, his Shell had turned out amazingly well.
He was satisfied. His feelings of disappointment and fear of failure had passed, and now he could enjoy a well-deserved moment of peace.
However, Bars' moment of peace lasted only 15 seconds.
After that it was brutally interrupted by the loud noise of a siren. The strong wail, filling Hangar 3, marked the end of the time given for the construction of the Shell. The napping boys jumped up in horror, and then they stood next to their survival suits nervously waiting.
“Attention! The preparation time is over! Every participant of the Descent must now immediately activate his survival suit. In 10 minutes, the exit gateways for the first, second, and third hangars will be opened!”
When the loudspeaker went silent, the noise in Hangar 3 returned to full strength. Realizing that they would very soon be leaving the Fortress, some of the boys fell into a mass euphoria while others became totally hysterical. The mixed wails and yells began to echo resoundingly, filling the huge compartment.
“It's time already!” said Bars stunned, not even paying attention to the excited cries around him.
He was giving now his whole attention to survival suit number 31.
Chapter 5
The Feeding Season Page 5
