As in, the first thing to drop off, or the first person to reach Autumn? Seems like I got a bit carried away making sure the story elements fit together properly, sorry for the double post.
The first to fall Kraulik tapped the gleaming machinery with a fingernail and it pinged in the quiet air of the engine room. "Why doesn't it get dusty?" I asked, more to fill the silence his words had left. I didn't like the idea we might be waiting for a something -- that suggested there was more out there than I wanted to contemplate. I'm not religious, far from it, but Kraulik's hint sort of suggested that other people might be and might have reason to be. Kraulik started, and then stared at the machinery. He ran his finger over it, and it squeaked slightly. "This isn't possible," he said, staring again. "You're right, it should be dusty, dirty, not looking like it was installed only yesterday. No-one can be coming in and cleaning it -- can they?" I shrugged. It takes all sorts in a world, and there were plenty of odd habits and curious tics on board this ship. Trying to stop them was impossible unless you wanted to be force fed your teeth. "I don't know of anyone with a cleaning fetish," I said. "It's possible, but why come all the way down here for it?" Kraulik started pacing in a focused fashion, staring at the floor. "You wouldn't," he said. "This has to be a clue! There must be something in here that will tell us something about what's going on."
"Whaaa?" The slur of the words was the giveaway before I even turned around, but sure enough Chuckles was leaning against the door letting it swing shut under his weight. It clanged closed and he slumped back to the floor, and spent a good thirty seconds getting back to his feet again. A smell of raw alcohol reached me; for all that the thirty-eight bars on the ship were really well stocked some people still insisted on making their own. Chuckles must have decided that rotgut was safer somehow. "Chuckles," I said, looking around for Kraulik. He had stopped pacing at the wall and was kneeling down and poking at the rubber mats that made up the flooring. "We wanted somewhere quiet to talk." "Engines are quiet," said Chuckles, swaying. His eyes were bloodshot; whatever colour they had been once the red dominated now. His nose was rosy as well, and a stubbly, struggling moustache appeared patchily. I got the impression he shaved but missed places regularly. "They're always quiet. That's why we don't go anyway. Haha." Kraulik started pulling up the floor mats and throwing them aside. "There's something under here!" he said, sounding excited. "Hey! Hey!" Chuckles pointed, his arm waving around so that his finger described a circle in the air in Kraulik's direction. "Hey! No digging on the ship!" "He's not digging," I said, stepping forward. To my surprise Chuckles darted quickly to one side and jinked around me. I turned around, more puzzled about his sudden turn of speed than anything else, and watched him bounce off an engine-side, then a railing, then stagger a commendable eight metres to where Kraulik had now dragged up four two-metre rubber mats and was gazing at the floor like it was the Mona Lisa. "You have to see this," said Kraulik, looking up at last. His eyes widened as he saw Chuckles heading for him, and he took a step back, then another, each further from the exposed floor. Chuckles threw his arms forward like a zombie and started across the exposed metal floor towards Kraulik. There was a bright flash and then Chuckles dropped like a puppet whose strings have been cut, sprawling across the floor like a broken doll. A moment later there was a dull boom and I couldn't put the idea of thunder and lightning out of my mind, for all that it was impossible for the sound and light to be that separated inside the engine room. "The first to fall," said Kraulik, staring at Chuckles. Chuckles didn't look like he was breathing to me, and Kraulik had a much better view. "Get over here and look at this, but don't touch the floor. It's a bit more dangerous than I expected."
4 comments:
As in, the first thing to drop off, or the first person to reach Autumn?
Seems like I got a bit carried away making sure the story elements fit together properly, sorry for the double post.
The first to fall
Kraulik tapped the gleaming machinery with a fingernail and it pinged in the quiet air of the engine room.
"Why doesn't it get dusty?" I asked, more to fill the silence his words had left. I didn't like the idea we might be waiting for a something -- that suggested there was more out there than I wanted to contemplate. I'm not religious, far from it, but Kraulik's hint sort of suggested that other people might be and might have reason to be.
Kraulik started, and then stared at the machinery. He ran his finger over it, and it squeaked slightly.
"This isn't possible," he said, staring again. "You're right, it should be dusty, dirty, not looking like it was installed only yesterday. No-one can be coming in and cleaning it -- can they?"
I shrugged. It takes all sorts in a world, and there were plenty of odd habits and curious tics on board this ship. Trying to stop them was impossible unless you wanted to be force fed your teeth. "I don't know of anyone with a cleaning fetish," I said. "It's possible, but why come all the way down here for it?"
Kraulik started pacing in a focused fashion, staring at the floor. "You wouldn't," he said. "This has to be a clue! There must be something in here that will tell us something about what's going on."
"Whaaa?" The slur of the words was the giveaway before I even turned around, but sure enough Chuckles was leaning against the door letting it swing shut under his weight. It clanged closed and he slumped back to the floor, and spent a good thirty seconds getting back to his feet again. A smell of raw alcohol reached me; for all that the thirty-eight bars on the ship were really well stocked some people still insisted on making their own. Chuckles must have decided that rotgut was safer somehow.
"Chuckles," I said, looking around for Kraulik. He had stopped pacing at the wall and was kneeling down and poking at the rubber mats that made up the flooring. "We wanted somewhere quiet to talk."
"Engines are quiet," said Chuckles, swaying. His eyes were bloodshot; whatever colour they had been once the red dominated now. His nose was rosy as well, and a stubbly, struggling moustache appeared patchily. I got the impression he shaved but missed places regularly. "They're always quiet. That's why we don't go anyway. Haha."
Kraulik started pulling up the floor mats and throwing them aside. "There's something under here!" he said, sounding excited.
"Hey! Hey!" Chuckles pointed, his arm waving around so that his finger described a circle in the air in Kraulik's direction. "Hey! No digging on the ship!"
"He's not digging," I said, stepping forward. To my surprise Chuckles darted quickly to one side and jinked around me. I turned around, more puzzled about his sudden turn of speed than anything else, and watched him bounce off an engine-side, then a railing, then stagger a commendable eight metres to where Kraulik had now dragged up four two-metre rubber mats and was gazing at the floor like it was the Mona Lisa.
"You have to see this," said Kraulik, looking up at last. His eyes widened as he saw Chuckles heading for him, and he took a step back, then another, each further from the exposed floor. Chuckles threw his arms forward like a zombie and started across the exposed metal floor towards Kraulik.
There was a bright flash and then Chuckles dropped like a puppet whose strings have been cut, sprawling across the floor like a broken doll. A moment later there was a dull boom and I couldn't put the idea of thunder and lightning out of my mind, for all that it was impossible for the sound and light to be that separated inside the engine room.
"The first to fall," said Kraulik, staring at Chuckles. Chuckles didn't look like he was breathing to me, and Kraulik had a much better view. "Get over here and look at this, but don't touch the floor. It's a bit more dangerous than I expected."
The highest leaf
Felt it first --
The cool breeze after summer's heat
The nip of frost --
Turned yellow
And tumbled down.
Greg - intentionally left open to interpretation :)
Hmm, an unexpected end to Chuckles' stay on the ship, it would appear. Lucky for your narrator and Kraulik though, I reckon.
Morganna - ooh, that is quite lovely. Very nicely done!
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