by Paul Kidd
“You’re kidding me.”
Kitterpokkie peeked into the little room and looked about it in interest. “Well the elevators are still here. That’s always good news!”
Snapper blinked. “Are they safe?”
“Well the doors work – and the music. I doubt the actual lift motors still function – far too many mechanical parts to rust and decay… ” She inspected the charred skeleton lying on the floor, and picked up a burst plasma pistol that lay amongst the bones. “Oh! Here we go! Poor chap couldn’t throw it away. Nasty”
A second elevator also held an armoured body. Snapper levered open the creaking doors with her crowbar, and found another skeleton strewn all about the floor. The fallen soldier had clearly been chewed by something with very big teeth. His armour had consisted of a cuirass and helmet. Only the breastplate remained whole and hearty. Snapper removed the cuirass, carefully pulling it free from the old bones. She apologised to the skeleton, smoothing the bones back into place.
“Sorry, my friend. We’ll leave you in peace now.”
She slipped the gleaming black breastplate into her backpack, and looked back at Kitterpokkie.
“Stairs?”
“Stairs it is.”
They emerged back out into the vast main room. Kenda and Beau were peering into an ancient broom closet, and the riding beasts were gazing about at the décor. Snapper looked about herself and suddenly gave a frown.
“Where the hell is Throckmorton?”
There was a clang and bang from behind a desk. Throckmorton was messing about, pulling out some shiny objects from a drawer. There was an ornate hat covered in braid, a pink bra and a thermos flask. The plant dusted it off and looked at it all in interest. Snapper gave a scowl.
“Throcky! What the hell are you doing?”
“Throckmorton has found a thing!” The plant happily waved his new hat. “And Throckmorton found silver stairs.”
“Silver stairs?”
At the far end of the massive cavern was a great, transparent wall. Massively thick, it was covered with claw marks, rips and scrapes, as though a frenzied mass of monsters had tried to rip their way through the barrier. The great transparent sheet had apparently withstood almost anything – although it had finally failed when someone had plunged some sort of flying vehicle in through a window. A shattered mass of wreckage had ploughed across the floor, smashing a hole through the barrier and ending up crashed into a nest of shops. “Handbag World” and “The Creamery” would never be the same.
Multiple sets of silver coloured stairs with glass sided railings lead up to a massive balcony up above – and then on to yet another floor.
The group led their pack beasts and mounts slowly forward, picking their way across the wreckage. Shattered shops were full of mould and decay. Several mechanical devices had been flung against the walls and broken – strange articulated things with many arms, with wheels and treads. Hologram signs flickered suddenly into life, displaying a spectacular flying vehicle that seemed to be crewed by humans in white uniforms – all of whom had immaculately perfect hair. The aircraft – a big dart shaped thing painted in white and blue stripes – winged off into the sunset, headed towards a great, shining island.
A city in the sky.
Snapper, Beau and Kitterpokkie stood and stared.
The hologram images showed a great, round, glass roofed city – an immense disk that floated amongst the clouds. Happy passengers were welcomed by human women who heaped them with flowers. A glittering world of swimming pools, cocktail bars and waterslides seemed to spread out beneath the dome. A shimmering logo burst forth and hovered in the air above the gaping adventurers, crackling and shimmering as the hologram equipment nearly failed.
Mistral.
Snapper walked Onan over to the silver stairs. They seemed solid – the crashed vehicle had never reached quite this far. She tested them out, and then began to walk up, up, up into the air, with Onan and her pack beetle following behind.
There was no collapse – no creak or groan of material fatigue. Kenda came next, moving briskly, towing his beetle-horse and pack animal. The others followed, with Throckmorton floating along beside them, still marvellously happy with his elaborate new hat.
They emerged up onto a concourse filled with seating. More holograms stuttered into life, and eerie music from a corrupted old sound system echoed from above. Bug-mice paused to stare at the visitors before scampering away into ancient shops once filled with sweets, jerky or piping hot fast foods.
A ghostly hologram of a woman in ornate robes appeared. In a flash, the woman suddenly had Snapper’s face – the hair braids and big zigzag teeth looked extremely incongruous. Seconds later, the hologram body had changed into one wearing an outfit that astoundingly accented backside and boobs. Apparently it was an advertisement for fashion wear. Snapper scowled and pushed through the illusion, stomping onward towards the next set of stairs.
The next concourse was safe and fairly empty, although the hologram somehow contrived to follow Snapper about the building, projecting her face onto bikini models and sunscreen adverts. The group broke for lunch, eating camp bread, thin-sliced biltong and pickles, sharing out an excellent cold fruit tea. Onan and the other riding beasties all ate sugar bulbs and giant dandelion seeds – although the birds made it clear that salty crackers were at the top of their list of wants.
The group spread out to inspect the weird old concourse. Kenda walked off, following Beau as the fox-bird strutted over to a window and peered out at the lake below. The green man kept a careful watch for danger while Beau’s attention wandered. Snapper was pleased to see that her instructions to never wander off alone were finally being heeded.
Back at the picnic site, Snapper tossed crumbs and rinds to the local bug-mice, some of whom were really rather handsome. Kitterpokkie salvaged some old power cords from a nearby a shop and began testing to see if the local wall sockets still had power.
Snapper pulled out the salvaged cuirass and inspected it: the thing was damnably handsome – all decked out in a deep black that would admirably suit the shark’s preferred hussar jacket and breeches. Snapper unlaced the dented, cracked plates of her old frontal armour, then laced the handsome black cuirass in their place. The result was extremely pleasing: it was firm, and felt spectacularly sleek. She packed away her tools, satisfied with a job well done.
Kitterpokkie had found a great many old batteries in a store. She passed one to the shark.
“Snapper, old chum! Charged or empty?”
“Hmmm…” The shark passed the little battery beneath her snout, as if savouring the cork from a bottle of wine. “No real charge in that one, I’m afraid.”
“Aha! But now how about this one?”
Snapper sniffed at a new battery, and detected a slight, delightful fizzle. “Oh yes! A slight charge there!”
“Excellent.” The mantis fussed about with a little white box that she had connected to an outlet in the wall. “We have a box of dead rechargeable batteries – and now a battery recharger! What could be more handy?”
“How long to recharge a battery?”
Kitterpokkie read the instructions printed on the side of the recharging box. “It says here one hour at full domestic current.”
“So – it would take about three weeks to charge the batteries you just found there?”
“Well, it will certainly take a while. But think of the advantages! Useful things, batteries.” Kitterpokkie packed away the batteries and charger into her saddlebags, along with lengths of electrical cord. “Oh! Do you know, I believe that might be a camera shop just down the way there! We must lunge in! Surely we can spare the time?”
“Take Throckmorton with you.” Snapper jogged up and down in her armour, still wonderfully pleased with it. “Don’t be long. There’s lots of lovely stairs left for us to climb!”
As it turned out, the camera shop had no usable cameras: they all required computer equipment that no longer existed. But it did
have an undamaged pair of binoculars: an excellent pair that seemed to require a charged battery. Kitterpokkie’s eyes were not actually configured to make use of binoculars, but she was extremely pleased with her find nonetheless. Throckmorton had also found a little set of golden opera glasses, and took great delight in examining things around him.
Snapper gathered up Onan and her pack beetle, polishing off the beetle’s mandibles before leading him onward. Beau and Kenda were already waiting at the base of the next set of silver stairs. Snapper nodded to the windows nearby.
“Can we see much of the city?”
Beau gave an easy shrug. “Not as yet – but I have high hopes! The building is beautifully situated – far enough away from the other buildings to afford us a wonderful view.”
“We must keep climbing.” Kenda tugged his beasts into line and led the way upstairs. “We are wasting time.”
“It’s never a waste! We never quite know what’s important. The point of exploration is to keep one’s eyes open.” Kitterpokkie faced the stairs with a sigh. She was not looking forward to more leg work. “Ten more floors until we reach that first main platform?”
“Something of the sort.” Snapper clucked her tongue to the pack beetles. “Right! Onward and upward! Excelsior!”
Up they trudged, floor after floor, with the new levels clearly having once been restaurants and night clubs: the hologram billboards were certainly full of sizzling meals, brimming glasses and stylised dancers. Music videos echoed through the vast empty halls, startling a colony of sakura-bats that flew out through an open window. But there were no ancient battle sites – no signs of violence. The group briefly explored a dried-out, dead garden, and found a single old skeleton. Whatever had happened here, it seemed to have left the building’s main areas utterly untouched.
Wearily the group trudged up stair after stair, ascending higher. Finally they emerged into a great glass-lined lobby -a place where windows opened out upon a vast wide platform outside. Snapper felt a surge of joy, and pushed forward past the others as they stood at the head of the stairs.
“Finally! Is this it? The first platform? We should…”
The shark stopped and stared.
They stood in a great, wide lobby. A wall of windows arched high overhead. The floor was utterly smothered in shattered, smashed old bones.
Broken suitcases and scraps of luggage were scattered through the debris. There were several armoured suits, but all of them had been crushed and shattered.
Amongst the bones were many that had been caught in an horrific, almost molten state – caught mid-change while being morphed by the GeneStorm virus.
At the shattered windows, there were more mounds of bones. Skeletons literally choked the doorways – mutant skeletons hybridised from a dozen different beasts, with misshapen limbs, multiple eyes… horrendous mutations, big and small. Most were partly human, though some were as small as cats. The creatures had died in droves as they crashed in through the doors. Survivors must have flung themselves on the defenders, tearing into them before any could escape. Snapper saw telltale blasted, melted plasma rifles, and nudged the fragments aside.
Kenda looked over the ancient carnage with a frozen face.
“They died fighting.”
“I’ll give them that.” Snapper moved carefully, making certain she trod upon no bones. “Alright. Let’s try and head out to the balcony. Hopefully we’ll be able to see down into the city…”
Kenda reached the windows – many of them blasted apart long ago by plasma rifle fire. He stopped and gazed out at the great broad space beyond.
The broad roof had been a landing field. There were overturned crates and shattered cargo boxes strewn across the surface. Bones lay scattered, crumbling and picked clean. But sitting further out, as the far edge of the platform, there was a single huge, sleek shape painted in blue and white.
A pristine, perfect aerodyne.
Kenda froze, staring at the scene. Gradually he moved forward, out into the open air, and listened to the wind. Snapper walked forward beside him, stepping carefully between bones.
“An airport?”
“Private aircraft and commuter jets…” Kenda jerked a hand to encompass the scattered bones. “They tried to barricade the lower floors and hold the port. The mutants must have literally climbed the outer walls. Overran them where they stood. Consumed anyone who didn’t make it into the air.”
“Well, it’s where we’re all from, eh?” Snapper rested a hand upon Kenda’s shoulder. “Worked out for the best in the end.”
The man walked away from her without responding. He pushed forward past the tangled remains of old bodies, leading his beast through the field of bones. His eyes were fixed on the long, sleek shape of the ancient aircraft.
“It’s intact!”
Snapper made a face. “Must be broken. Otherwise they would have used it to evacuate.”
“Or perhaps it was simply inaccessible.” Kenda looked the huge vehicle over from afar and adjusted his gloves. “Locked and perfect.”
Kitterpokkie and Throckmorton had walked to the railings, and were looking out over the windswept drop down to the lake below. Kitt summoned Snapper over to the edge, and passed her the marvellous old binoculars.
“Here we go! These are for you.” She pointed towards lower, thinning foliage covering the city ruins to the west. “See what you can see.”
Snapper looked through the binoculars. The view seemed to leap forward in immaculate detail, startling her with the crispness of the view.
“Wow!”
“Are they good?” The mantis was well pleased. “Once we get some batteries charged up tonight, we might see some marvellous other features. Apparently they see in the dark!”
“Kitt – these are definitely the find of the century!”
“Use them in good health.” The mantis carefully leaned over the railing, looking at marks scored into the walls below. “Good lord! Do you know, I think GeneStorm monsters must have actually scaled this wall! All the way up from street level!”
“That’s what Kenda said.”
“Really? Unusually perceptive of him.” The mantis looked back out over towards the city. “Can you see anything useful?”
Snapper carefully search the east side of the ruins. “Yeah, over there, near that old tower thing. See that? Those might be a bunch of big long rooves – maybe silos or tanks there, in amongst the trees.”
“Aha! Just the thing!”
“Yeah… I can see a lily pad route…. We might end up having to swim the last hundred metres…Hmmmmm…” Snapper stared again through the binoculars at a far patch of the shore. “You know, I think those evil little pygmy things are having a war with each other. They seem to be bashing each other senseless!”
“Hopefully they’ll vacate the ruins and leave us all in peace,” Kitterpokkie clucked her tongue. “I ask you! Some people!”
A strange, tinny female voice suddenly spoke from far behind them.
“Greetings honoured chairman.”
Everybody turned.
Beau stood at the rear of the blue and white aerodyne. Suddenly, the rear hatch hissed and the ramp slowly lowered down. Holding up his lucky pendant, Beau could only stare at the hatch in shock.
Kenda stood at Beau’s side. He scarcely waited for the ramp to lower, striding inside the vehicle. His animals followed behind him. Snapper looked across the way, aghast, then came striding over with the others in her wake.
“Beau! What did you touch?”
“Nothing!” Beau put a hand on his breast, utterly protesting his innocence. He held his pendant in the other hand. “All I did was hold this! I didn’t touch anything.”
“Kenda? Kenda!” Snapper jogged over, the ever-curious, Onan in her wake. Pendleton had already swarmed up into the huge aircraft, grinning like a maniac. “Beau – why is Pendleton on board?”
“Well he… he likes… messing with stuff.” Beau hastened inside. “Oh! Yes, stop Pendleton f
rom messing with stuff.”
“Oooh! What sort of stuff?” Kitterpokkie was already climbing the ramp. “Oh my! It’s perfect! No degradation at all!”
“Kitt! Godfish damn it!” Throckmorton had already flown aboard, and Onan was making his way up the ramp as well. The air inside smelled odd – a mix of plastic and hot dust. It seemed to attract the pack animals and other mounts, who all wandered up the ramp. Thoroughly annoyed, Snapper raced up after the others.
“Nobody touch anything! Do you hear me?”
The inside of the ancient aircraft was wonderfully clean. A single great, broad cargo hold comprised the rear – a hold with enough room for the adventurers, riding beasts, pack animals and more. A hatchway up ahead opened into some sort of passenger cabin. Kitterpokkie was walking through the hatch, happily examining everything around her. Throckmorton was peering into some cases deeper on into the hold. Beau and Kenda were Godfish-knows-where. Snapper shouldered her way past the curious pack beetles. “Kenda!”
Beau called from somewhere far up to the front of the vessel. “We’re up here!”
“Well, wait. Hang on!” Onan was trying to pass through the hatch into the passenger cabin, but the door was proving to be a squeeze. “Onan! Will you just stop!”
“Salty cracker!”
“There are no salty crackers aboard this ship!”
“Actually…” Kitt emerged from a little galley festooned with cupboards. She had a foil packet in one claw. “Here’s some!”
Onan flapped his wings in wild greed. Snapper ducked the burst of feathers. “Those things will be spoiled!”
“Salty cracker! Salty cracker!” Onan was beside himself with joy. “Good birdie!”
Snapper tried to make her way forward to the control cabin, but her path was blocked by the overjoyed bird. Wings flapped, foil tore, and the cockatoo gave a deafening screech of sheer happiness. Absolute chaos reigned. Somewhere in the middle of it all, the rear hatch swung upwards and locked tight. Snapper tried to turn around.
“Who’s touching stuff? Nobody touch stuff!” She pointed at Throckmorton. “Was that you?”
