‘Don’t be so bloody silly, I’ll reduce the flow first, and if the lamps don’t dim down a little, then we’ll know there must be another supply coming in somewhere.’
Ben was terrified at the prospect, but did not have the courage to physically restrain Sandy as he rummaged about in the tangle of pipes connecting the two big tanks and the subsidiary cylinders comprising the gas generating plant.
‘It looks as if these two valves control the flow of gas from each tank, sending it eventually up to the main delivery pipes up there,’ he said, indicating a pair of tubes which snaked along the ceiling of the cavern, to later disappear into the wall adjoining the next cave.
‘I’ll turn this one off a little,’ he said to a trembling Ben, ‘and see what happens.’
Nothing did, so he turned it off fully, and then the other valve was shut down. Still the little gas lamps on the wall of the cavern flickered, sending ghostly shadows dancing around the walls as the two of them moved about. Sandy looked for the extra supply inlet he was so sure existed.
‘Well, so far the lamps haven’t gone out, and the gas supply from the tanks is off. That proves my point, there is another supply feeding the lamps, so why do you think that is, eh?’
Ben had stopped shaking as he realized Sandy had been right all along, but what did it imply?
‘OK Sandy, you’ve convinced me that the digesters are not supplying the gas, but does it really matter where the gas comes from? We seem to be getting it from somewhere and we’ve never run out, as far as I can remember.’
‘But that is the point,’ Sandy retorted impatiently, ‘don’t you see? If the digesters are not producing our gas, then they have been set up to fool us into thinking we are keeping the supply going ourselves, when in fact what we are doing is just a waste of time, and producing nothing, except perhaps some compost for the growing bins. Someone doesn't want us to realize that this whole place has been set up to house us, hence all this subterfuge. Anyway, I still want to know just where these pipes really go.’
‘You’ll need something to stand on if you are going to reach where they go into the wall.’ said a chastened Ben.
They both hunted around in the gloom of the big cavern, Sandy finally falling over a box-like thing in a dark corner and uttering a rude expletive in the process.
‘Must be what he sits on when he’s not twiddling the gas controls.’ Ben offered, feeling he should say something.
They dragged the heavy box over to the wall, Sandy climbed up and stood looking intently at the point where the pipes disappeared into the stonework.
‘Pass up the metal rod, and standby with the lump to hit it with. A little poke about should reveal something.’
A small shower of stone chips fell on the unsuspecting Ben as Sandy chipped away at the point where the pipes disappeared into the wall.
‘Looks like they have stuck the small pieces back with something.’ Sandy mused as he jabbed away at the wall, finally getting the rod into a position where he thought he could do some real damage.
‘OK, whack it one,’ Sandy called out, ‘but not too hard, I only want to chip away a little of the wall where the pipes go in to see exactly where they go.’
‘They go into the next cave,’ Ben replied, ‘I thought you knew that.’
‘I’m not so sure they do, at least, not directly.’
A few minutes later and they had removed enough of the friable stone to reveal where the pipes were actually going, a large lump slipping out of Sandy’s hand and hitting Ben on the head. This brought forth a very strong expletive which surprised Sandy, and he hastily reinforced his earlier point,
‘Bet you didn’t learn that word here!’
‘I’ve never used it before.’ said a mildly embarrassed Ben, going a dull pink. ‘I’m beginning to see what you mean.’
A few more chips, and the gas pipe mystery was solved.
‘If you look up there, you’ll see the pipes from the gas generator bend upwards, and disappear up into the rock. Another pair of pipes come down besides them, and then go into the next cave, carrying the real gas supply. That’s where the gas supply is really coming from, not the generators down here.’
‘Why would anyone want to do that?’ asked a surprised Ben, after he had taken a look at the two sets of pipes, ‘surely that’s a bit deceitful, and why make us go to all the trouble of working the generators when there’s no need?’
‘This place is all about deceit, nothing is quite what it seems. That’s why I want to solve some of these mysteries, and so get a better idea of what it’s really all about. Come on, we’d better put back as much of this stone a possible, although it’s so gloomy in this corner I doubt anyone will notice our handiwork.’ Most of the stone was wedged back in place, and the exploration reasonably well concealed.
‘What do we tell Nan?’ asked Ben, when they had redistributed the remaining rubble on the floor of the cave into convenient dark corners, ‘I don’t suppose he’ll like it.’
‘It’s about time Nan faced up to some of the odd things which happen here, instead of just accepting everything at face value and then building a mythical ritual around it.’
Sandy turned the gas supply from the generator back on, being careful to leave everything as it was before.
‘Are you going to tell Jez what we’ve found?’ asked Ben, eager to spread the news now that he had had his interest awakened in matters mystical.
‘No, I think we’ll keep that a little secret to ourselves, and Nan of course, the fewer people who know about this sort of thing the better, for the time being. I would like us to get into a position where we can really look after ourselves without the help of any outside force before we show our hand, as it were, ’cos who knows what will happen then.’
Ben promptly assumed his worried look, as the idea of major changes to their regime looked more than likely, if Sandy had his way.
They met up with Nan in the main cavern just before the midday meal.
‘Well, what did you two find out?’ asked a somewhat complacent Nan, not really expecting any disturbing news.
They told him what they had found, and Sandy’s theory that the gas supply had been rigged a long time ago to fool everyone into thinking that it was they who were making the gas for the lights, when the system could not possibly make enough for their needs. Nan did not look a happy man.
‘Why do you think ‘they’, if ‘they’ really exist, went to so much trouble to fool us? I don’t see any point in it. I think you’re jumping to conclusions.’ said a rattled Nan.
Just then, the rest of the group began arriving for the midday meal, so any further discussion on the faked gas supply was suspended. Nan suggested that they continue later on after the evening meal, as they would be less likely to be disturbed then.
Mop excelled herself with the food offering, although she would not divulge what the chewy bits were, except they were something she had recently discovered. The juice they were suspended in was thick and glutinous, and tended to stick to the teeth. Sandy dreaded to think what it was she had used, and did not dare ask.
Most of the afternoon was spent rummaging about in Ben’s store of bits and pieces, Sandy not saying exactly what it was he was looking for, merely getting an idea of what was available, should the need arise. Ben was sure it would.
The growing boxes were taken out when the sun dipped below the highest peaks, the bowl of the crater taking on a more gentle glow instead of the white hot blast of light which constituted the main part of the day.
The boxes had hardly been out for more than a few minutes when a loud bell sounded, and everyone rushed out to the main entrance.
Karry and Kel were pointing their gas guns at a small group of cloak clad bald headed people who had crept up to the growing bins, and were intent on helping themselves.
‘Shoot the tallest one,’ Nan said quietly, ‘he’s most likely their leader, and that should throw them into disarray.’
A loud bang shat
tered the otherwise stillness of the crater, and several more cloak clad figures suddenly sprang into view from their hiding place among the rocks at the base of the towering cliffs. Karry must have been lucky, or a good shot, for the tall target fell to the ground, clutching his leg.
The fallen one made much of his damaged leg, while two of his henchmen tried to get him up onto his feet again. One of the bolder members of the raiding party took several steps forward, waving a long silver coloured rod at the defenders, and this prompted Nan to give the order to fire again.
This shot hit the rod waver in the forehead, and he too fell to the ground, blood spurting out from the gash, and staining the sands a deep crimson as it soaked in.
Both gas gun carriers took a step forward and pointed their guns at the remaining group of attackers, as if to fire again.
Not realizing the guns were now inoperative, they took to their heels, dragging the last casualty rather carelessly by one leg, until they were well out of range.
The group reassembled, shaking their fists at the triumphant defenders and yelling unintelligibly before marching off defiantly, trying to rescue some degree of dignity from their failed attempt to acquire what was not theirs.
‘Well done,’ said Nan, ‘that was good shooting and should teach them a lesson they won’t forget in a hurry.’
Ben stepped forward to take the gas guns for reloading, and Sandy followed him down to his workshop, to see how it was done. One of the gas lamps had a piece of flexible tubing attached to the outlet of the lamp, and Ben thrust the tube into the end of the gun, after removing the bung. Unscrewing a small knob on the bulbous end of the weapon, he then turned on the gas and held a burning taper which he had lit from one of the lamps, over the hole.
Nothing happened for a moment, and then a small flame appeared at the hole, burning brightly. Ben then turned off the gas, removed the tube, and inserted a rod with a leather like plunger on the end, into the gun barrel, pushing it in as far as it would go, and then the little flame went out.
The rod was withdrawn from the barrel end of the gun, the little knob screwed back in and small wad of some fluffy material pushed down the barrel. This was followed by the round stone missile and another wad of material to hold it in place, and then the bung, still attached to its string, was firmly pushed home, to seal the end of the barrel.
When Ben had recharged the other gun, Sandy asked him to explain exactly what he had done, and why.
‘It’s really very simple. When the gun is fired, burnt air is left in the tube, so the bung is put back to keep it that way.
‘Whoever fires the gun, removes the bung just before they fire. The bung stops the gas mixture from leaking out after it has been charged, and is attached to the gun by this piece of string, so that we don’t lose it each time the gun is fired.
‘When I get the gun back for recharging, I connect up the gas pipe and hold a light to the little hole where the knob was, so that when the incoming gas has driven all the burnt air out, the gas will light, and I know it’s full of gas.
‘Next, I push the rod with the little flange on it into the barrel, pushing some of the gas out the other end, and when I withdraw the rod, it sucks air back in to mix with the gas.
‘This gives the perfect mixture for an explosion, so propelling the stone out when it’s fired. The wadding is to hold the stone in place, and the bung is put back to seal the barrel,’ and then Ben added as an after thought, ‘I would have thought you could have worked it out for yourself.’
‘Well, I had, sort of, but I wanted to make sure I had understood it properly.’ Sandy replied, when in reality he was checking to see if Ben understood the principles involved, giving him a measure of the man’s intelligence for future use. With the guns recharged, they both headed back to the entrance of the cave complex, to rearm the guards.
‘Looks like we got back just in time,’ said Sandy, handing over the gun he was carrying to what he thought was Kel, although the difference between Kel and Karry was hardly discernible despite the fact that she was a female, ‘we have another visitor on the way.’
Kel shielded his eyes against the glare coming off the shiny peaks above and stared into the distance indicated by Sandy.
‘You’ve got good eyes!’ he exclaimed, ‘damned if I would have spotted him so soon. I think it’s one of the men from the group next to us, there’re all right, we trade with ’em quite a bit, that’s when they have anything to trade with.’
The distant figure quickly grew in size as it raced across the intervening sand, little spurts of silver dust like particles flying out behind him as he sped towards the waiting group.
Red faced and sweating profusely, the stranger blurted out the news between gasps of air to satisfy his bursting lungs.
‘We bin raided, most of our stock of plants ’ave bin taken, an’ three of our men be lying injured. One ran off into the sands, an’ somethin got ’im, couldn’t see what it was though, it gist grabbed ’is legs, an’ he went under.’
‘God, he smells worse than our lot,’ Sandy quietly said to Ben, who had moved up wind of the odorous visitor. ‘They must be really short of water.’
‘Do we smell as bad to you, as that man does to me?’ asked Ben, with an anxious look on his face.
‘If you want me to be honest, yes, but I’m getting used to it, I suppose. We could all do with a good wash, if the truth be known, and as for a hair cut, you’ll all have to get an estimate first.’
‘What do you mean, an estimate? asked a perplexed Ben.
‘It means...., Oh, forget it, just a little joke of mine.’ Sandy replied, moving a little further up wind of their visitor.
‘What do you want us to do about it?’ asked Kel, warily.
‘Git ’em back for us. We’s short of food anyway, an’ now we’s hardly got any,’ the visitor said miserably, ‘we could help you, that would out number ’em.’ he added as an afterthought.
‘Where were your guards?’ asked Karry, ‘you should have seen them coming and beaten them off, or at least got your growing boxes back inside.’
‘Don’t know. We just heard a noise, an’ when we went outside half the boxes was gone, an’ three of our men was lying on the ground, injured.’ He wobbled over to a rock and sat down, thoroughly dejected, the rest of the group moving over to one side to avoid the aroma which seemed to follow him like an invisible but pungent cloud.
‘We don’t even know who they are,’ Kel said defensively, ‘and even if we did, there’s little chance we could get the boxes back without heavy casualties. Sounds like they’re the same lot who paid us a visit earlier, but we saw them coming and fought them off with our gas guns.’
‘We don’t ’ave any gas guns, perhaps we could trade for some?’ the wretched creature suggested, but with little hope in his voice.
‘We only have two, and your lot probably couldn’t look after them properly, anyway.’ Kel wasn’t going to deplete his armoury at any price.
‘Could we trade for some growing boxes an’ plants?’ the odorous heap asked, this being the main purpose of his visit.
‘What do you have to trade with?’ asked Ben, thinking this would put an end to the request.
‘Don’t know. We’s got lots of bits an’ pieces you might find useful. Stuff the Great Light gave us.’ he added brightly, as if this would increase the value of their stock.
‘I very much doubt you’ll have anything of value to us,’ Kel said, ‘anyway, we don’t have any spare growing boxes at the moment, so I don’t see how we can trade.’
Sandy felt sorry for the emissary from the raided group, he had slumped down on his rock, all hope gone from his dejected face, and a trickle of tears threatened to dislodge some of the ingrained dirt from his grimy cheeks.
Sandy casually moved closer to Kel and said very quietly,
‘It might be worth a quick look to see what they’ve got, could be there’s something we could make use of.’
Kel hesitated for a momen
t, deep in thought, and replied, ‘OK, we’ll have to get Nan’s approval first, and if we do, we’ll go over first thing in the morning. You might be right, I don’t think even they know what they’ve got. They’re such an inept bunch, I’m surprised they are still in existence.’
‘He’s got a funny way of talking, too,’ Sandy said, nodding his head in the general direction of the pathetic bundle of rags, ‘I can only just understand him.’
Kel grinned, ‘You should hear the rest of ’em, they’ve got a different language to us, and he acts as translator for them. We’ve dealt a little with them in the past, and that’s when I found out that when he arrived here, he didn’t speak their language at all, so had to learn it. I suppose he’s lost a little of his own in the process, or it’s just a bit different to ours.’
Nan suddenly appeared on the scene, and Kel went over to explain what had happened. Agreement was reached on a possible trade the following day, and the odorous emissary was dispatched homewards, with copious warnings about the coming cold of evening, and the nasty things which lurked below the surface of the fast cooling sand. The others of the group had already begun to retrieve the growing bins, and soon the crater was devoid of all visible life.
On the way back to the main cavern, Sandy asked Nan about the black sticky stuff which held the fabric covering over the hole in the cave they now used to condense water.
He thought it came from a cave deep below the gas generating cavern, a long time ago, but no one had been there of late that he could recall.
‘Why are you interested in it?’ asked Nan, ‘do you have a use for some sticky stuff?’
‘It’s a raw material, and there may be some other undiscovered use for it.’ replied Sandy cautiously, not wishing to go into deep discussion of what he had in mind at the moment. Somehow the black goo around the hole reminded him of something, and he felt sure if he were to see it in its native state, he would be able to recall what it was.
By now, Ben had taken an interest in the proceedings, and as Nan moved away, disinterestedly, Ben moved in closer.
‘What are you up to now?’ he asked quietly, ‘perhaps I can help. I know my way around these caves quite well, and I’ve been in some that no one else seems to know about, deep below us. There is a limit, below which you die. I’ve not been that far, but someone did a long time ago, and never came back, or so the story goes.’
Extreme Difference Page 5
