GeneStorm: City in the Sky (8 page)

Chapter 3

Three days of riding out across the plains. Three days of slow golden sunrises and grass trees sparkling with dew. Smoke bush swayed and rippled in the breeze, washing back and forth like a vast silver ocean. Strange animal hybrids lived in the brush; creatures part plant, part rabbit and part mouse that led busy lives out in the quiet. Dandelion mice and catbirds flitted through stands of wattle trees, vanishing as the wagon train slowly grumbled near.

In the evenings, gorgeous sunsets slowly uncurled their wings while the wagon train made camp. Out in the scrublands, fat little floating rodents emerged from roosts and drifted in the skies, lighting the evening with bio-lights. Passengers lounged beside campfires and played guitars or grass flutes. There were nightly games of cards, and dominos played with painted tiles. Beau – the hero of the hour – was excused his night sentry duties, and instead disported himself amongst admiring female travellers, reading stories aloud or sampling gifted titbits of food and wine.

Snapper made camp with the wagoners, and took the liberty of sharing their food. Crispy fried bacon plant and oatseed cakes for breakfast. Baked meat melons or mystery meat stew for the evening meal. One night she brought forth an old treasure – a long recorder carved from a single sweep of dark red wood. She played while Onan danced, much to the delight of the passengers and crew. The cockatoo then shamelessly wheedled one and all for salty crackers, hard biscuits and sugar balls.

Snapper spent her evenings with Kitterpokkie, swapping tales and sharing cherry wine. Between them they managed to prune and groom poor Throckmorton, repairing the damage caused by tumbling through the trees. They spruced up his foliage and scrubbed his tendrils, sitting him down at night in a root bath of water and compost. His flowers sprang back to life, and he was soon grinning happily and eating countless flies.

At night, Snapper and Kitterpokkie bedded down with Onan and Throckmorton – well back from the campfire, since Snapper preferred the shadows and Throckmorton was adverse to flames. They passed insect sticks back and forth and watched glowball rodents drift by. The mantis was fascinated by new lands and new creations: Snapper’s tales of plants, animals and creatures were absorbed with great interest.

The seven villages all had populations of seemingly infinite variety. ‘Splicers’, animal hybrids with clear humanoid form, were so varied as to be a constant source of amazement. The GeneStorm seemed have brought a gift of sheer variety.

Kitterpokkie lounged back against a bedroll made from old canvas sacks. Her sole remaining garments – a sort of halter top and a skirt, were hanging up to dry, and she wore a borrowed blanket that covered her from cleavage to thigh. As she watched one of the passengers – a grey, winged gentleman part cat and part dove – she curled her elegant antennae in thought.

“I have been keeping notes upon cross-breeding, trying to determine whether some species traits are dominant or recessive. Thus far, I have found no real patterns – but there is an astonishing blend of life.” The mantis passed Snapper a strip of ‘camp snake’ – a coil of baked savoury dough that had been wrapped about a stick. “But I do find such a marvellous mesh of attitudes and abilities.”

Snapper ate the salty dough, dunking it in a cup of brown onion gravy. "I met a toucan once. Sort of part cat, part bird.” One often wondered just what the story might be behind various hybridisations: in predator/prey hybrids, the story became less mysterious. “Now
she
married a guy that was a sort of strawberry-dog hybrid. Well – their kid sort of stayed a cat toucan. But his feathers were all red and green strawberry colours. Pretty striking.”

“Indeed! The variety of life is a never ceasing wonder.” Kitterpokkie lounged back, firelight glittering off the high peaks of her eyes as she watched glowball rodents wafting through the trees. “A fascinating study in complex systems. Diversity in balance. Wealth in abundance.”

“A new world.”

“A new world. Filled with all the thrill of discovery. A chance to come to life – to do it right at last…”

Snapper sighed. Above her, stars gleamed with colours too subtle to perceive. Her electrical sense felt the soft hum of nearby life. Overhead, there was the faintest glimmer of Aurora Australis – shimmering ribbons uncoiling far, far above the earth. Smoke weed stirred softly, and the world seemed a wondrous, infinite thing.

She stretched, breathing in the soft scents of the night.

“With all of this here… think how much more there is to see. Marvellous things just waiting to be found.” The shark put her hands beneath her head and watched the glittering bands of light rippling through the skies. “Just waiting for us. We could find places that just…. stun the soul.”

Resting back against Onan’s warm, plush feathers, the shark quietly swirled her tail.

“My uncle Toby – he and the old timers once found a pass up through the barrier cliffs. They said they found a city. A whole ruined city, all covered with flowers. There was a lake – a real lake, with floating plants, and huge golden creatures just cruising in the clear waters… Ancient, silent towers, shrouded by ten thousand drifting butterflies…”

“I’d like to see that.” The mantis ordered her notebook at her side – invaluable hand made paper covered with her notes and observations. “Have you ever crossed the cliffs?”

“Never made it. Some sort of landslide covered the route through the radiation. No one’s ever been able to reach the cliffs again. I went looking last season, but the rains came early. Almost washed Onan and I straight down to the salt sea.” The shark sighed in frustration. “Good thing, I guess. Onan’s feathers were prickling. It was probably going to turn hot on us further up the valley.”

“You uncle and his companions – they were not poisoned by radiation, for all love?”

“No, the city itself was clear. But the whole zone at the base of the cliffs is one huge radiation field.”

“Yes…” Kitterpokkie sat up and reached for the dough snake, creasing her brows in thought. “Well, never fear, never fear! We can quite certainly solve the problem. The initial radiation would have been in the form of particles. Those particles will have largely migrated down into folds and hollows. With properly designed protective equipment, and confining ourselves to exposed rock and high points… Oh, QED! We could quite definitely find a way across!”

Snapper thought about it.

“How would we scout a route?”

A soft honk came from beside them. Throckmorton had been dozing peacefully in his compost tub. The plant made a lazy sketch of words with his tentacles.

“Throckmorton will fly high and guide you.”
The plant wriggled his roots and tucked his many heads beneath his leaves.
“Not a problem.”

“There we are then!” Kitterpokkie rubbed her hands together. “The seed of a plan.”

It was an interesting idea. Snapper gave a thoughtful twitch of her long tail.

“We’d need a grub stake.” Snapper saw that the phrase was unknown to Kitterpokkie. “You know – food, supplies, riding critters, pack animals…”

The mantis gave a fluttering wave of her hand. “All problems have a solution. I’m sure some chips will turn up somewhere! With all the activity in Spark Town, there’s sure to be something that needs to be fixed! Improved! Innovated!”

The shark took another bite of dough. “Where did you come from, again?”

“Oh – Rocky Crossing, for all love. A little place given to farming vegetables, pruning vegetables, eating vegetables… and also table tennis. Very noisy place at night!” Kitterpokkie patted at a small parcel of books that she forever carried in her shoulder bag. “But the village does have a single marvel – an old cellar that held a great many books.
Printed
books! Marvellous place to get an education, if you don’t mind digging through the rubble.” Kitterpokkie lovingly patted her bag, pulling forth a very ancient, dog-eared book. “
Principals of Basic Chemistry’
, by a gentleman called Ballard! Written in 1938, whenever that was. A perfect introduction to an astounding world!”

Snapper received the book and flicked through the pages. There were masses of exceedingly dry text, along with photographs showing pipes, fluids and retorts. “When did you first read this?”

“Oh, I was about ten or eleven. I’d never have understood half the other stuff without it.” The mantis accepted the book back. “Oddly enough, it’s the most practical book of them all. There’s not much chance to exercise anything from
‘Handbook of Fusion Power Plant Operation’
– and not half as much fun.”

Snapper raised one brow. “No?”

“Well – after a century and a half, the things are all insanely unstable. Blow you up as soon as look at you! Hell of a bang!”

“Ah.” The shark considered. “So – no messing with scavenged power plants. That would be bad.”

“Decidedly not advisable!”

Over by the campfire, Captain Beau was accepting yet another drink from the hand of one of the more attractive passengers from wagon number three. Snapper and Kitterpokkie watched from afar, then fluffed out their blankets and prepared to sleep. Beside them, Throckmorton snoozed happily, leaves twitching in some strange dream.

Snapper rolled around in her blankets, made sure her sword was beside her, and gave a yawn well stuffed with pointed teeth.

“All righty. Bed time.” The shark stretched. “Did you really blow up a town?”

“People can be such babies! It was only a single building! Well – two of them. Three if you count the shed.” The mantis fluffed out a sack for a pillow. “It was the poison gas that they were all incensed about! But there was a perfectly good breeze blowing. No harm done!”

“Goodnight Kitt. You are a very strange person.”

“Goodnight, friend Snapper. You are quite strange yourself.”

At dawn, a handsome giga-moth was seen cruising off towards the hills. The huge fox-moth hybrids never bothered anything as large as a person, but were quite partial to stealing food. The animal kept well out of rifle range, and seeing no worthwhile morsels, soared off towards the hills to hide from the sun. The wagons pulled out of their defensive circle and continued on their way, finally reaching the first ranch lands sometime before noon.

A slow brown river – really just a creek that flowed even in the summer time – meandered down across the plains. The banks were lined with shady trees – lemon willow, ginger gum and tall grasshopper trees. The air held a tang of herbs and damp grass. The air rang to the cries of crow-cats and honey eaters. Tiny creatures – half blue wren, part hopping mouse – flitted in small groups down in the grass.

The ranch stations were set next to the river – big block-walled places where herd animals were sheltered for the night. The vaqueros were out keeping watch on their herds – cocoplods, horn beasts and fledgling riding budgerigars. The riders lifted long lances and whistled greetings to the caravan. Two men came riding up to greet the wagons, and Snapper rode forward to warn the riders about the presence of Screamers out there in the wilds. A teenager – a rather wild and rangy rat – sped off on a fast mount to bring the news to town.

At midday the caravan rested a while at the crest of a hill, under the shade of ginger gum trees. Kitterpokkie sat atop a stump and carefully set up a home-made camera, photographing the scene. She took further pictures – of Snapper, Onan, Kenda and the outriders, along with Beau filing his claws. The fox-pheasant came bustling over to her side, examining the camera with interest.

“Not an artefact?”

“Absolutely not.” The mantis had the entire camera folded up in a hardwood and leather case, quite proof against the weather. “The lenses are made from reclaimed glass, but all hand ground. The telescope store in Ginger Ford turns ‘em out! Grinds them using the river sludge as an abrasive. Same place that makes spectacles for trade.” The mantis motioned towards Snapper. “Excellent workmen! Always up for a challenge!”

Beau looked at the camera in amazement.

“But… you made a camera? Just… just
made
one?”

“I did! Silver nitrate and a few other useful things.” The mantis packed her camera away in her shoulder bag. “Science is a marvellous thing.”

“Indeed! Indeed!”

“I shall give you a copy of the photograph once it’s developed.”

It was an excellent place to stop for lunch. The air was refreshing and the views delightful: the brush all over the plains was woven through with countless little flowers. Lunch consisted of damper that had been baked on the morning fires, served with sliced bacon melon, dried fruit and a fine crumbly cheese. Beau came strutting across the grass bearing a steaming billy can of tea. He served tea to Snapper, who sat on a boulder looking down over the plains while Onan indulged in dried apricots, grass tubers and salty crackers.

The hill looked down across several fields of plant animals, vegetables and grains – wandering rubber tree plants and other useful livestock. Some five kilometres or so across the plains, the walls of Spark Town could just be seen. The sturdy ramparts were made of concrete, dotted here and there with watchtowers. Smoke rose from cook fires, and people could be seen riding about the distant paths. It was the most populous settlement of the seven known villages, and by far the most technologically advanced. It was also wonderfully pleasant: even from across the dust-misted plains, the green of tree tops could be seen beyond the walls. The open space about the walls shimmered pink and white from countless millions of little daisies.