‘How shall we know how to make the clothes fit?’ asked Mop, thinking ahead quickly, ‘everyone is a different size.’
‘You can take measurements, and make any final adjustments while they’re wearing them.’ Sandy replied, quite unaware of what Mop had in mind.
Ben had made a crude pair of scissors from his supply of bits and pieces, and someone had found what passed for a needle, so, during the next few days, while the defences were manned, clothes were made, and after the first two or three outfits had been successfully fitted, everyone was keen to acquire a set for themselves. Sandy made sure that Nan was the first to receive the new uniform, and that immediately overcame any resistance to the change the others might have been harbouring.
Nan’s transformation, complete with hair and beard trim, restored some of the confidence he had lost as leader of the group, and he now walked around at full height, asserting his authority wherever it was possible.
As Sandy’s clothes were still in reasonable shape, he was the last to be fitted for the new uniform, a moment Mop had been waiting for.
‘Come along young man,’ she said with glee, ‘you’ll have to take some of your old clothes off, so that I can measure you for a good fit.’
‘I don’t think that’s necessary,’ Sandy protested, ‘they fit quite tightly, not like the bundle of rags most of you have been wearing.’
‘Surely you’re not that shy,’ she chided, slowly unbuttoning his tunic and savouring every delicious moment.
Stripped to his undergarments, which the others had long since discarded, he cut a striking figure, and Mop took her time over the measurements, checking each one several times until it became obvious what she was up to, and then she blushed a deep red.
‘OK, Mop, you’ve had your fun. As I’m in charge of uniforms, I’ll be around to measure you up for one.’ Too late, he realized his quip would be taken the wrong way, and it was his turn to blush.
There had been no reports of attacks on any of the other groups in the crater, but Sandy still insisted that a keen watch be kept at all vulnerable times.
The shiny metal plates Ben had obtained were polished to a level of high brilliance which surprised even Sandy, and they were stuck on the outside edges of the entrance with some of the sticky black stuff from around the water cave entrance. With another pair just inside, a good view of the local area could be seen by those on watch by the flame-thrower.
When it was Mop’s turn for a uniform, Sandy and Ben disappeared up the hole in the storeroom, enlarging it ready for the day when they could explore the shaft, but that relied on a suitable means of generating light.
At last, everyone had been decked out in the new uniform, been bathed, and had excessively long hair trimmed to a reasonable length. To everyone's surprise, except Sandy's, morale went up several notches at the change.
Shortly after the transformation of the group’s appearance, several visitors from either side came to trade, no doubt intrigued by stories of the new look. One group wanted similar clothing, only to be told there was no more cloth, which was not strictly true.
As water was a scarce commodity to most groups, this enabled Ben, through the exchange system, to collect large amounts of material for his store, including the first proper tools which Sandy had seen since his arrival in the crater.
Word must have spread further afield than they had first realized, and no doubt had been embellished in the process.
They were now getting visits from groups who were on the very fringes of accessibility, there being only a finite time for safe travel across the deadly sands, and Ben's store cave over spilled into the next one.
When the attack came, it took everyone by surprise. It was still dark as far as using the mirrors was concerned, only the faintest glow in the sky heralded the coming dawn.
Karry was in charge of the watch along with two others of like mind, when a scuffling sound brought them wide awake from a dozing like state.
She checked the tiny flame on the end of the flame tube through a small hole in the rag curtain, and then nudged the other two, motioning them to silence as she strained her eyes into the gloom further up the tunnel.
The exit out onto the sands showed up as a slightly lighter patch against the surrounding darkness, and flickering darker shapes cut across it as the raiders assembled in the tunnel entrance.
When no more ghostly shadows moved across the tunnel opening, Karry reached for the gas control valve with one hand, and raised the other to signal when to drop the net.
Karry waited until she was sure the raiders were advancing towards the curtain, and then gave the signal to drop the net across the entrance.
In the stillness of near dawn, the net made a surprising amount of noise as it rattled down across the entrance, and several grunts signalled that the raiders had been alerted to the fact that something they had not anticipated was happening.
Karry’s two helpers, each on the end of a hold down rope, braced themselves for the expected pull, in case the raiders tried to escape out of the tunnel.
She turned the gas control valve, a loud continuous hissing announced that high pressure gas was streaming out of the cylinder and into the tunnel. A surge of panic went through the guardians of the complex, as there was no expected burst of flame, and then it happened.
With a whoosh which was close to an explosion, the gas lit, and a sheet of flame raced up the tunnel engulfing the raiders, who now stood out like so many black shapes in the sea of advancing fire.
If it had not been for the rag curtain, the guardians would have been severely burnt by the back blast, as the heated air tried to escape in both directions. As it was, they were only slightly singed, and the two rope holders managed to retain their grip on the hold down ropes.
The ensuing screams of the raiders would haunt the members of the complex for some time to come, as they tried in vain to escape the furnace heat which pursued them up the passage, igniting their clothing and adding to the tunnel of consuming fire.
As the gas pressure dropped off, the roaring column of flame dwindled down, and then went out.
As darkness rushed in, it was somewhat alleviated by the flickering flames which still danced around some of the fallen raiders. The intense heat had broken down their body fat, liquefying it, and the remnants of their clothing, acting like wicks, continued to burn with red and orange smoky flames, adding to the horrific scene which greeted the rest of the complex members as they rushed up the tunnel to see what had happened.
Swirling clouds of acrid black oily smoke eddied up and down the passage, causing most to vomit copiously as the stench of burnt flesh assailed their nostrils.
Sandy pushed his way to the front of the crowd, singling out a smutty faced Karry who looked just as bewildered as those who had only recently arrived on the scene. He put an arm around her shoulder, realizing she was still in shock at the appalling mess which had once been the raiders.
‘Well done, Karry,’ he began, ‘you’ve saved our lives, that’s for sure.’ The normally tough Karry put her arms around him, clinging tightly, and then broke into uncontrollable sobs. The pent up tension of the last few minutes released itself in a flood of tears, cutting two clean lines down her smoke darkened face. Gradually, her sobs subsided.
‘God, I hope I never have to do that again.’ she got out jerkily at last.
‘I don’t think any of us will, once word gets around of our new capabilities,’ he replied, gently rubbing her hunched shoulders, ‘unfortunately, it had to be done, otherwise we’d all be dead by now, you did well, very well.’
Once the initial shock was over, Nan took charge, ordering the still smoking remains to be dragged out onto the sands as the dawn light added even more detail of the horrific carnage which had taken place.
By the time the charred bodies had been removed to the edge of the crater sands, it was nearly full light, and time for the morning meal. None felt like eating, nor did Mop offer anything to the smut stained
few who had done most of the work. Those made of less sterner stuff were nowhere to be seen, having retreated to their caves to get over the shock of what had happened in their own individual ways.
It was while Sandy and Ben were standing just outside the entrance to the cave complex, mainly to get some clean air, that they saw their first denizen of the sands.
Surprisingly, there was now only one body left, a few metres from the rock walls of the crater.
A rippling of the sand, some ten metres out, gave the first clue that something under the now warming sands was on the move. They both stepped back instinctively, ready to dive into the entrance should anything get too close.
Whatever it was, it reached the limit where the sand thinned out to meet the underlying rock, and the ripples stopped. A long thin grey tentacle broke the surface, and groped around for the remaining body. Having found its target, the rope-like appendage of the creature wrapped itself around one of the limbs and retreated back into the sand.
Either the body was too heavy for the creature below, or it was unable to anchor itself sufficiently in the yielding sand, for a large mound rose up, some three metres from the half submerged body of the burnt raider.
The tentacle seemed to relax its grip for a moment, and then gave a jerk, ripping the arm off the body, and both disappeared beneath the surface in a flurry of sand particles.
While the pair of onlookers stood there, transfixed, another commotion further out in the sand filled crater drew their startled attention.
Whatever it was, it was considerably larger than the first creature, and by the eruptions of sand, was probably trying to wrench the severed arm away from its initial captor. A few more spurts of sand, and the first creature escaped with its bounty, leaving the larger one to make a bid for a meal on the half submerged corpse.
All was still for a moment, and then a tentacle as thick as a man's waist slowly emerged, swinging to and fro, using the sensors on its tip to locate the remains of the burnt body.
‘My God, how big’s the creature itself then?’ asked Ben, his mouth hanging open after asking the question.
‘Too big for catching with what I had in mind,’ Sandy replied, ‘so I’ll have to change my plans a bit.’
‘You really mean to catch one?’ asked an incredulous Ben, visualizing the struggle a creature of this size would put up.
‘Yes, if I can work out how to. It would provide us with a good supply of meat, and we could trade the surplus for whatever else we might want, once we get the others used to the idea of eating meat.’
The tentacle had now located the remains, and hovered around it, trying to make sense of the unaccustomed smell of burnt flesh. Having decided its find was probably edible, the thin whip end wriggled under the remains of the body and out the other side, curling around the corpse, and then it was gone in a flurry of sand.
Seconds later, and no one would have known what had happened. It all appeared as normal as any morning in the crater, apart from a few remnants of charred clothing, and one of those was slowly sliding beneath the sands as something smaller and less discerning, took a fancy to it.
‘I can see why everyone is so very careful about travelling on the sand.’ Sandy said, to break the uneasy silence.
‘Do you really think it’s worth the risk trying to catch one of those things?’ asked Ben, as they returned to the caves, ‘we’ve no idea how big or strong they are.’
‘I’m banking on the fact that they are in sand, and therefore can’t get much of a grip, so if we can get a purchase on one of those whip like arms, it should only be a matter of hauling it out far enough for the heat of day to kill it, and then we can butcher it up in the evening.’
‘I think we should talk this over with Nan.’ said a still somewhat doubtful Ben.
‘I already have.’ Sandy replied firmly.
The stench of burnt bodies still hung around the entrance of the complex, and would do so for some time to come, but surprisingly little of it seemed to have penetrated further into the cave system, and Sandy wondered why.
Later that day, he did some tests with smouldering rags, watching the flow of smoke, and concluded that there was a faint air current coming from deep down within the complex, and resolved to find its source one day, as the only place it could originate from was the other side of the rim.
The trauma of the morning had eased a little by the time of the evening meal, and most had fortunately recovered their appetites for Mop’s surprisingly good culinary efforts.
It consisted of the most tasty stew she had yet produced, accompanied by round bread-like buns made from crushed grain she had obtained during a trade swap with one of their neighbours. She later admitted it took several attempts to get the mixture right, the first few samples produced being more suitable for use as missiles against possible marauders.
Gradually, the tone of the group rose, even a few jokes were made, and everyone retired in good spirits, largely helped by Mop’s sumptuous meal.
Sandy was just on the point of drifting off to sleep, having run through the events of the day to see if anything could have been done better, when the soft shuffle of footsteps brought him wide awake again.
‘Can I talk with you for a moment?’ Mop’s soft tones dispelled the initial flush of fear he felt at the unexpected sound, and he murmured his assent as he relaxed.
Since having had a good wash, a hair cut, and a new suit of clothing, Mop appeared to be more like what he thought a woman should look like.
Despite her inclination to carry a little extra weight, probably due to frequent tasting of her culinary concoctions, she had a warm and friendly attitude, which he found quite pleasant and comforting in an obtuse way.
As she snuggled up beside him beneath the newly washed rags which passed for blankets, he was strangely grateful for her comely presence, and turned to face her. Never one to miss a chance, Mop slid both arms around him, and drew even closer, burying her head in the recess of his shoulder.
‘I always feel so much safer when I’m near you,’ she cooed, wriggling a leg between his, ‘you always seem to know the right thing to do.’
Whether Sandy took the hint or nature took over, it matters little, suffice it to say, a good time was had by all, and it was a contented Mop who snuggled down for the best night’s sleep she had had for a very long time.
The early morning meal was a little late, much to Nan’s annoyance, and he showed it by his brusque attitude towards all who spoke to him. This brought the general conversation to a staggering halt, and the later part of the meal was taken in silence, except for the grinding of teeth on Mop’s half cooked breakfast.
At Sandy's suggestion, after the somewhat sombre morning meal had concluded with hardly a word spoken, the pair made their way down to Ben's storeroom.
‘Wonder what’s up with the crotchety old sod.’ Sandy commented, as they tramped down the tunnel.
‘Nan likes everything done in order and on time, I expect Mop’s late meal upset him a bit. I wonder why she was so late getting up this morning?’ Ben added with a grin, giving Sandy an unappreciated dig in the ribs.
They looked into the water condensing cave on the way, and found the water level had almost reached the little ridge which prevented it from over spilling into the tunnel.
‘I’ll get Mop to remove some for her needs, and the rest we can store for exchange. Must say, I never thought it would be so productive.’
As Sandy turned back to go to Mop’s kitchen, he raised a finger towards Ben, who had just opened his mouth to make yet another quip about Mop.
Upon his return, Sandy handed Ben a small dark stick,
‘Chew on that for a bit, I think you’ll like it.’
‘What is it?’ asked a suspicious Ben, mindful that Sandy might try to get his own back for the earlier jokes he had made about Mop.
‘Don’t really know. It’s something she got from one of the new plants, looks like the stalk, and she left it in the steam oven to s
ee what would happen to it. It tasted good to her, so she gave me some to try.’
Ben gave the end of the dark stick a tentative suck, his face brightened, and he began to chew along with his friend.
Some time later, after the chewing stick had given up all its flavour, and quietly watching Sandy rummaging about among the stores, he could contain himself no longer.
‘What exactly are you looking for?’ asked an impatient Ben, eager to get on with something constructive.
‘Shan't know ’till I see it. I'm not being difficult, I'm looking for something to suggest a means of catching one of those things in the sand.’ He paused for a moment, and then pulled out a roll of metallic netting from under a pile of metal sheets.
‘Now this might do the job, notice the weave. If we made a cylinder of this stuff, and you put your arm in the open end and then I pulled on the other end, it would tighten, and you couldn’t get your arm out.’
‘Don’t see how,’ replied a baffled Ben, ‘what would make it tighten?’ Sandy patiently explained the principle behind the self locking effect of a spiral wound tube of threads.
‘Let’s try it, Cut out a small piece like this.’ Sandy drew a pattern on the dusty floor, ‘while I try to find something to run the holding ropes through.’
When it was time to break off for the midday meal, they had made a small cylinder of the mesh, stitching the two edges together with a strand of wire, tried it much to Sandy’s satisfaction and Ben’s amazement, made a larger one, and located two metal rods with an eye on one end of each.
Nan seemed his old self again as they all assembled around the table to eat, and Sandy told him what they had been doing, and the proposed capture of the sand creature.
At first, Nan would have none of it, but Sandy explained in detail how they would entice the creature to put a tentacle into the cylinder, tighten their grip on it, and then haul it part way out of the sand, letting the heat of the blazing sun complete the job. In the end, Nan gave in, realizing that for every good reason he could think of for not attempting the capture, Sandy had a more than adequate answer.
Extreme Difference Page 9
