The Best of Penny Dread Tales (5 page)

I reach him within minutes, but when I find him I’m repulsed by what I see. The left side of his face and chest look badly burned. Steam escapes from the pipe next to him. The pipe must have burst right under him. The burn on his face is red and ugly, and his arm and shoulder are already starting to blister. I pull my coat from my bag and wrap Davie in it. He screams when the fabric touches his burns, and, thankfully, he passes out. I’ve got to get him out of here. He doesn’t weigh much, and I easily pick him up and throw him over my shoulder. I pass an access tunnel on my way here, but there is no telling where in the city it would let me out. Once again, I pray silently to no one.

Emerging into the city, we are somewhere I don’t recognize. The buildings here are placed further apart than I have ever seen, and each building is only three stories high and fifty feet wide at least. I have never seen such small buildings, and I can’t imagine what they are used for. Each one has steps leading up to it and a railing enclosing an open area in the front, which contains several chairs and a low table.

As strange as things are, I don’t have time to wonder. The map on my tablet doesn’t show first aid stations, and Davie needs help fast. I take the stairs in one leap, even with Davie on my back, and try the door. It’s locked. Desperate, I pound on the door and keep pounding until I hear movement within.

“Alright already! I’m coming!” A male voice says from within. I hear the sound of knobs turning and levers moving, and then the door swings open, revealing the oddest man I’ve ever seen. The first thing I notice is the strange hat on his head. It looks to be made of copper and has a magnifying glass attached to it hanging in front of the old man’s eye. Also, there is some sort of tube wrapped around it, which appears to be attached to nothing. Spiky white hair sticks out from under the hat to frame a long and weathered face.

“Please, sir,” I say in a rush. “Could you tell me where I am and where the nearest first aid station is? My friend is hurt.”

“What is all this now?” he asks, stepping out the door and taking a good look at Davie on my shoulder. “Hmm, perhaps you should come in.”

“Begging your pardon sir, but he needs help. If you could just point me in the direction …” I try to protest.

“He does need help,” the old man interrupts. “Now get your tail inside so I can give it to him!” The look on the old man’s face is firm but not unkind, and for some reason I don’t think I could have disobeyed him if I wanted to. I nod and follow him into the strange building.

“Here, put him on the sofa,” he commands. I put Davie where he pointed. When I turn around the old man is gone, but I hear rustling from the other room. “Rose!” I hear him call. “Rose, get down here. We have company.”

Company? Is that what he is calling us? Still, it is the nicest thing we have been called in a long time. A tiny, slim woman comes down the stairs at the far end of the room. She wears a long gray skirt and a white blouse with a high neck trimmed in lace. She has a round face with cheeks that seem to glow a rosy color.

Looking at Davie, she says, “Oh my, what have we here?”

“This boy,” the old man says, coming back into the room, carrying a toolbox and without the strange hat, “is a most dreadful shade of red. I do believe, my dear, that he is also in a great deal of pain. Here, I’ve fetched your things for you.”

“Good man,” she says as she takes the toolbox from him and places it on another low table. It is filled with gauzes, bandages, needles, and vials of who knows what. She pulls out a needle and fills it from a vial.

“What are you doing?” I cry. “What are you giving him?”

“Please,” the old man puts a gentle hand on my shoulder and guides me to a cushioned chair at the far end of the room. “Rose was a doctor before she retired. She knows what she is doing.” The woman sticks Davie with the needle, and I immediately see him relax. She then pulls out some type of ointment and begins rubbing it all over his burns before bandaging his wounds. He doesn’t stir once during the entire procedure. How does he not feel it? The pain must be excruciating.

The woman looks at me and smiles. She holds up a bottle and says, “Morphine,” as if that explains everything. When my confusion doesn’t end she adds, “Pain killers.” My confusion only lessens a little bit. I know there are such things, but only the rich have access to them. Why would anyone give them to Davie? I also wonder what they are going to charge us for them.

“Well then, now that your friend seems to be resting comfortably, why don’t you tell us what happened?”

The woman
tsk
s at him before I can say anything. “Where are your manners, Harold? At least bring the girl a cup of tea and maybe a sandwich. She looks hungry.” Harold looks ashamed and hurries off to comply with the old woman. “My husband,” she says to me, “he is a wonderful man, but sometimes he forgets his manners.”

Manners?
I think. I just burst in here, tossing an unconscious kid on her sofa,
and
I think she just saved Davie’s life, and she is worried about her husband’s manners. What kind of people are these?

Just then Harold comes back in the room carrying a tray of steaming cups and some small sandwiches. He places the tray on the table and gestures for me to help myself, but I hesitate. “How much?” I ask.

The two look at each other questioningly. “How much?” I ask again. “For the food,” I add when they still don’t seem to understand.

“We don’t want your credits,” Harold says. “Just eat. In this house, no one goes hungry.”

So this is a house. I didn’t really believe that they existed in this city. I knew that people who were better off had their own apartments for their own families, but I never heard of people having an entire building for themselves. “You live here? All by yourselves?” I ask in wonder.

“Yes,” Rose answers. “Now, a few sandwiches and some tea won’t hurt you any, so eat up.” As if to prove to me that they are safe, she picks one up and daintily takes a bite. That was all the encouragement I needed. I grab one and gobble it down … and then another. I am half way through my third before I notice they are both staring at me.

“Sorry,” I mutter through a mouth full of bread and cucumbers.

“No need, dear,” Rose assures me. “You just go ahead and finish. We’ll wait.”

Swallowing, I take a sip of tea before saying, “I’m finished.”

Harold looks me over with a keen eye before he says, “You’re a steam pipe engineer, aren’t you?”

Engineer?
That was a new one for me, but I feel myself nodding in response.

“You were in the tunnels when the earthquake hit?” Once again I nod. “That was how this young man came to be hurt?”

“Davie,” I say. “His name is Davie.”

“I am Dr. Rose Higgs, and this is my husband, Professor Harold Higgs. And your name?” Rose asks.

“Emily. My name is Emily. How long do you think Davie will be out of it? We really need to get back to base.”

“Oh, you aren’t going anywhere any time soon, my dear. The earthquake knocked out all the steam trains. Plus, the young man needs to rest. I would think the earliest anything will be up and running will be tomorrow.”

“I have to get back. I can walk; it’s not that far.”

“It’s at least twelve kilometers. It will take you hours to get back.”

“But there will be damage to the steam pipes. There will be work to do, and I’ll be docked if I’m not there to work. I can’t afford not to work. They will throw my things in the street if I don’t pay my rent at the dorm. I can’t stay here!” I’m starting to get hysterical. What little of a life I have is about to be over.

“Come with me, Emily,” Professor Higgs commands. Heading up the stairs, I follow him to the third floor and through a door into a giant laboratory. There are workbenches covered in glass beakers and copper pipes. Wrenches and saws are hung on one wall, and an acetylene torch sits in the corner. It is impossible to discern what the Professor is working on as half-finished inventions lay discarded all over the worktables. On the far wall hangs a giant information panel. All the panels I’ve ever used were touch screens, but this one has a strange keypad that the Professor begins punching with his fingers. A map of the city appears on the screen.

“Which dormitory are you living in?”

“It’s on the corner of Dyott and Bainbridge, the Museum Dorm.”

“I know that area. It used to be a great neighborhood back when the museum was still up and running.” The Professor continues to press keys on the keypad as he speaks.

“The museum?” I’m not familiar with any museum in the area.

“The Museum of Human History was located only a few blocks from where you now reside. It housed many of our treasures from the days above. People could go there and learn about what it was like when we lived on the earth instead of under it.” He looks up at the screen as a picture of the Museum Dormitory building pops up. “Here we go. Now we just need to transfer the credits for your bed.”

“You don’t understand; until I go back to base and collect my day’s pay, I don’t have the credits to pay for my bed.” I don’t know why I feel embarrassed; everyone I know is just as poor as me, everyone but Professor Higgs.

Professor Higgs doesn’t hesitate; he just presses more buttons and says, “There you go. It’s all taken care of. You are paid through the end of the week.”

The end of the week! That was five days away! “I don’t need your charity.”

“Then call it a gift. Or if you would like, pay me back, but I can tell you that we really won’t miss the money. Come. Let’s get you settled in for the night.”

“I still need to contact my boss. I need my job.”

“Very well.” He punches more keys. A photograph on the wall catches my attention. It looks like the city, only somehow different. The area above the city is blue, like the old murals in the steam train tunnels, and the blue seems to go on forever. “London,” the Professor says over my shoulder. “This city is based on it.”

“This was above ground?” I say in wonder. He nods. There were many landmarks in the picture that I recognized.

“What is the Judicial Center of our city was called Westminster Abby above ground. The Clock Tower was called Big Ben, and this here,” he points to the largest bridge in the city, “was the London Bridge.”

“How do you know all this?”

“My great-great-great-grandparents helped build our city. My grandfather was an engineer responsible for building the drill that was used to reach the Earth’s core. My grandmother was an environmental scientist; she helped develop the machine that turns solar power back into sunlight, allowing us to grow food, even underground. I still have the original blueprints for the city.”

Wow, no wonder he is so rich. His family helped ensure the survival of the human race.

“Professor Higgs?”

I turn to see a well-known face on the information panel. “Is that the mayor?” I ask incredulous.

“Yes,” the Professor replies, nonchalantly. “Mayor Campwell,” he addresses the screen. “What can I do for you?”

“I’m sure you know that we have indeed just experienced an earthquake of a magnitude that this city has never seen before, and while the tremor dampeners that our forefathers installed did indeed suppress the vibrations to the city, there has still been immense damage. Worst of all, the steam pipes in the solar towers have burst. Without heat the towers will freeze, and we will be unable to retract them, leaving the solar panels exposed to the elements. With the severity of the storms on the surface, it is only a matter of time before the panels are destroyed.”

“Your Honor,” Professor Higgs replies, rubbing his temples between his thumb and index finger, “my invention is only a prototype and has yet to be tested. There is no telling if it will actually work.”

“I’m afraid, professor, that you will have a trial by fire. I’m trying to locate a steam pipe worker who isn’t already working deep in the tunnels. Many of the pipes have burst, and already the temperature in the city is beginning to fall.”

“One moment please, Your Honor.” Professor Higgs turns to me after muting the screen. “Are you very good at your job?”

Uncertain as to what this is about, but very certain as to my abilities with a wrench and a steam pipe, I nod. “I’m the best!” I’m not boasting either; there isn’t a pipe I can’t fix.

“This could be dangerous.”

I still have no idea what he is talking about, but I face danger every day. There are a million ways to get hurt down in the tunnels. I straighten my back, plant my feet and ball my fists as if to say, “Bring it on.”

“Good.” The Professor turns off the mute on the screen and says to the Mayor, “I seem to have found my own technician, Bill. I will see to preparing the ship and contact you when we are ready.”

“Once again, Professor, this city’s hope resides with a Higgs. We are counting on you.”

With a sigh the Professor turns back to me. “Have you ever wanted to see the surface?”

“What!?!” I nearly feint right there. “Are you kidding me? Nothing can survive on the surface.”

“That is what we are going to find out.” He motions for me to follow him back down the stairs and out a back door. There, behind the house, stands an enormous warehouse with sliding doors that stand two stories tall. Professor Higgs seems giddy as he hops from foot to foot. “I have never shown this to anyone besides the Mayor and Rose. I hope you’ll like it.” With that he leads me through a much smaller door on the side of the building.

It’s dark, and I can hear the professor fumbling for a light switch. “Ta Da!” he announces. The lights come on abruptly, the glare momentarily blinding me. I put my hand up to my eyes, waiting for them to adjust to the light. When they do I can’t believe what I’m seeing. The thing is huge and gold and massive and … and … and I just don’t have the words to describe it. “Here, come. Look at this.” The professor leads me over to a workbench where he shows me yet another picture. This time though, I have no idea what I’m looking at. “They called it a tank back in the days above. It was a weapon of war. I have based my designs on it, but she isn’t a weapon. See, while my machine has tracks like these, the gun barrel is missing from mine. And this machine ran on oil while mine is steam-powered. And my machine is much, much bigger!” His excitement obviously difficult to contain, he runs like a school kid over to the machine. He raps his knuckles on the hull. “Three-inch thick steel and copper-plated. Isn’t she a beauty? I call her
Pandora
, because I know that I can get into a whole lot of trouble just by opening her hatch.”