Chap. 416  The Fuel Bunker

“There’s a sign underneath this moss,” Raylan said. He cleaned it off. It was almost illegible, but the letters were large enough to still be read.

“It says, DANGER NO SMOKING”

“What does that mean?”

“The fuel was probably flammable,” Engineering said.

“But it wouldn’t smoke if it wasn’t burning, would it?”

“It wouldn’t mean from smoking meat? I’m confused.”

“I don’t have a clue on how a shuttle was fueled. It doesn’t matter, there’s no fire here today.”

One of Engineering’s men cut the lock of the bunker’s door.

“This is a skookum door,” he said, “it’s built pretty solid. She’s going to be heavy, that’s my guess. Here, mate, take that one handle, I’ll take this and give it a crack to let some air in. We don’t want to be hit with carbon monoxide.”

“Maybe there’s none in it, that looks like a ventilation shaft in the middle.”

“Broken off, you’re right, but I have a lunch betting that something’s nested in it all these turns I mean years and blocked ‘er off.”

Each man took a handle from the center opening and lifted, expecting their door to be heavy. It was.

The held it open for a few moments, then pulled the doors open, like a book opening. And laid them down, with a clang.

“Huh,” one said, “I expected a screech from the hinges.”

“No,” Engineering said, “Look, they’ve been lubricated. Recently.”

“It opened easy, despite being so heavy,” one of her men said.

The air that came out smelled musty but harmless. A ramp and a set of stairs led down into the interior. On one side of the ramp, an arrow pointed up to a spot in the ceiling, the remnants of a chain dangling from it. It had a sign with an icons showing a stick figure running up the stairs, lurid flames at its heels, as well as a sign in Global as well as other languages that said, “Halon gas. In case of fire, pull handle, evacuate, shut doors.”

“Something really dangerous must have been stored in here,” Data said.

The chamber smelled of must and old age, the walls covered with manyleg webs and the carcasses of their insect prey littering the steps.

The overhead sunlight illuminated the stairs and the ramp, leaving the interior in deep shadows.

“Why are we looking in here? Shouldn’t we be opening the building behind us?”

“I dunno, it just..well, I am like a kid, I guess, I want to see what’s in it before we go to breaking into that building. That will take most of the afternoon,” Engineering said.

“Okay, who goes in first?”

“You think there’s something dangerous in there?”

“YES.”

“Cowards,” Raylan said, wondering where he was getting the courage. “I’ll go in first and if I scream, come save me from the monster.”

“Gonna be hard to do when I’m running,” Data said, laughing.

Raylan thumbed his datalink to flashlight mode. “Next time I see Arr and Dee I’ll thank them for putting a light on the datalinks.”

He gingerly took the first step down.

“Someone’s been in here,” he said, “there’s a light skin of dust but the footprint is new, if I’m any judge.”

He got to the bottom of the stairs, wondering if there really WAS something dangerous in the nether reaches of the bunker.

“It’s not ash? Maybe it’s not been opened since colonization?

“I don’t think so.  First, that lock is recently made. The tracks look fresh and for a bunker that’s this old, there’s hardly any ash on the floor.”

“As tight as it is, I doubt any ash got in. Which is probably why someone was in here in the first place.”

“And I can only imagine what a volcanic cinder would have done to the fuel in here.”

One of the engineers said, “This thing was built solid. It’s cement blocks, not printed like the other buildings. The doors are iron coated with something to withstand rust.  This bunker was built to withstand just about anything short of an earthquake,” he said, patting the inside of the door. And regretted it, as his hand came back covered with sticky manyleg webbing, empty insects still trapped in it.

“Someone’s been living in here,” Raylan said, scanning the interior with his datalink, “I see a cot, footprints everywhere, and boxes. “

“How much room do you have down there?”

“Not much,” Raylan said, “I’d say it’s about half a head higher than me and maybe five meters deep and wide? Just enough room for a cot and some boxes.”

Commo came down next. “There’s clothing on the cot. That’s odd. A LOT of clothing.”

“Maybe kids playing dress up?”

“I don’t know.  Even if they hadn’t been locked, the doors are too heavy for a small kid. And the footprints are all the same size. It’s just one person who’s been in here.”

Data joined them. It began to get a bit crowded. “Look”, he said, aiming his datalink at the boxes, “There’s trenchers from the dining hall. And flatware.”

“And a klah mug, and a teapot,” Raylan said, “Got himself a little home away from home.”

“And stealing food from the dining hall. That’s not nice.” Commo said.

There’s something about these clothes, Commo thought. “These  are a man’s clothes, they’re all the same size but they have a different look to them,” she said as she felt a shirt. “The fabric of this one is like nothing I’ve ever felt, and my mum was a seamstress. I’m going to take them outside to get a better look.” She gathered the clothing up and walked up the stairs. Whew, she thought, it’s hard to breathe down there. I’ve seen enough.

There were a few boxes all the way at the back. Data touched one, expecting it to be covered with dust or ash.

They were not.
“The design of these boxes look familiar,” he said.

Raylan lit them and knew immediately what they were. “I should hope so, they’re dragon cargo boxes, made specifically for cargo transport. We must have a dozen just like these in Motanith’s bay.”

He pushed one, then picked it up by the leather handles. “I think this one’s empty.”

“Let’s get them out into the sunshine.”

“Let’s empty this whole bunker out. If L’ichen’s been using it as his hideaway, it’s one bolthole we can shut up,” Engineering said.

Commo looked up from the small pile of clothing.

“Once it’s empty, it needs to be locked with a new lock. I don’t trust some kid getting in it and the door trapping them inside. We’re so far from the residential area you could scream until your lungs burst and one would never hear you. You’d die without a soul knowing where you went.”

Engineering nodded, the thought frightening. “I’m sorry to say this, but it wouldn’t take long. This thing is fairly airtight, that’s how halon works so well. You’d run out of oxygen fairly soon.”

The thought chilled them all, especially those in the bunker. This is a tomb, Raylan thought.

“I brought a new lock with me, Chief,” said one of her crew.

“Good thinking. We’ll lock it up and later, maybe tomorrow? Come out and weld that door shut. It’s too dangerous to leave unsecured.”

And all were relieved to be out in the sunshine and fresh air.

“Phew. I can’t imagine staying in that thing overnight.”

“I think he just used it as a storeroom. His lock was fairly new. But still, he did spend time in here.” Raylan said, shivering. “I’m not claustrophobic but I wouldn’t spend any time in here, even with a door open.”

“Give me a hand, will you? I want this thing cleared out as soon as possible,” he said.

Within a few minutes, everything was out. Raylan went back down for one last check, and his flash caught the glint of something in a dark corner.

“Don’t shut me in,” he shouted to the engineers, “I see something.”

It’s a disc, he thought, feeling the indentations on it. And behind it was what appeared to be a sock. A sock? Well, whatever.

He picked it up and felt something was in it. For a split second he thought, something in it might bite me?

Once in the sunshine, he blew the dust out of his nose and said, “OK. Shut it up, sirs, and lock it. For good.”

Two of the engineers called out, “Mind your ears!” and let the doors fall with a tremendous ‘bang!’

Raylan found himself plugging his ears with the stinky sock right on his skin. The two men shook their heads, their ears ringing.

“Won’t do that again,’ one said.
“Get the lock and secure it,” Engineering said, “and then, if you don’t mind? Start opening the building. Just the pedestrian door, please?”

“Yes, ma’am,” they said. “We’ll call you when we get it opened.”

“Uh, maybe not,” Data said.

“What?”

“Look at the clouds. We’ve got rain coming, I think we have a few hours, but I’m sure you don’t want to be carving that stuff off in the rain.”

“Shards, no, it’s a mess even on a hot, dry day,” one of the engineers said. They all echoed him. They were VERY happy to delay the opening.

“You’re right. Okay, folks, let’s head back, I’m sure Landing is about to dissolve with four chiefs out gallivanting around,” Engineering said to them, feeling the same thing.

“Hey, I sort of liked gallivanting,” Raylan said.

“Me too, Commo said, “I’m surprised my datalink isn’t buzzing off my belt.”

Raylan looked at Commo, still handling the clothing. “Maybe take those clothes to Arr and Dee? They might be able to figure out what they’re made of.”

Data shook his head. “No. Take them to Chief Elene.”

“Elene?”

“She’s Historian and Librarian, right? I bet my lunch she can identify them. THEN take them to Arr and Dee.””

Commo nodded. “That’s a good idea. She looked at Raylan.

“So, what did you find down there, Raylan?”

“A metal carving and a sock.”

He looked at the carving. “This isn’t just metal,” he said, “It’s silver, I think.”

“A lot more valuable than a sock.”

“A sock that has something IN it.”

“What, a foot? hahahaha,” Engineering laughed. “Is it moving?”

“Stick your hand in and find out.”

She pulled back. “Not me, uh uh, it might bite.”

He laughed, but realized he’d felt the same thing for a split second.

Everyone’s interest was piqued.

“Take it out.”

He felt it from the outside. It felt solid, and hard.

“Okay.”

He reached into the sock-which hadn’t been cleaned in a while-and pulled out a conical and bluntly pointed fossil. It was brown and looked almost polished.

“It’s a rock.”

“No,” he said, turning it over and over, feeling its features. In one glance, he knew what it was. “It’s a fossil.”

His mind began to race as his fingers ran along the gentle curve, feeling the points.

“It’s a tooth. It’s serrated like a bread knife on the inner edge.”

“Good grief, man, you can’t be serious. It’s a TOOTH?” Data said, dismayed.

“Definitely a tooth. A cutting tooth, a tooth to kill with. From a predator.”

Data took it. “Raylan, this thing must be 23 centimeters (9 inches) long!”

Raylan gulped. “I know.”