Welcome to Percotran -Part XXXVII

By Richard Davidson

The Bahini had simply dove. That was fine for them, reasoned Thawala. They had gills, and could swim to caves they had mapped out in their photographic memories. They weren’t restrained in a holding cell, and they weren’t fitted with a Mind Reducer. They saw Alexander and Kasheeba go over, and they were in the water in a heartbeat.

“The bastards are leaving us here to die,” complained Badson.

“It’ll be good for you,” said Thawala, completely sincere.

“Isn’t there anything we can do?” asked Badson.

“We can sit here, and rely on our one, far-fetched hope,” answered Thawala, as the sound of some of the smaller pieces of ice hitting the ship echoed with a metallic thunder, and grew louder.

“And what would that be?” asked Badson, resignedly.

“That this ship, being made of some of the finest metals crafted by modern science, will be strong enough to withstand the onslaught.”

Badson liked the sound of that.

“Is there much chance of that?” he asked hopefully.

“No, not really,” was Thawala’s sullen reply.

“So how long do we have?”

“I’m wearing a Mind Reducer. It hurts to think.”

“Do you have enough strength to break me out of this cage?” Badson asked.

“Let’s find out,” answered Thawala.

He stood up, and grabbed ahold of the Turbulite bars, and pulled with all his might. It did nothing.

“That’s not going to work,” Badson explained patiently, “you need to get some leverage. Turn your bunk over, and break the welds on the corners.”

Thawala did exactly that, and wedged the metal bar into the door of the cell. With intense effort, it opened with a loud clang.

“What are you doing?” he asked suspiciously, as Badson reached for his head.

“I’m getting rid of this thing, before we’re killed,” Badson said, as the pelting of chunks of ice grew louder still.

“Careful with that; it’s wired directly into my brain!” Thawala was quite serious.

“Trust me, I know all about these things,” assured Badson, who caused a small short circuit that set Thawala’s eyes rolling back in his head.

“Actinium; Aluminum; Americium; Amerenium; Antimony; Argon; Argyssium; Arsenic; Astatin; Barjum; Berkelium; Beryllium; Bismuth; Boron...” Thawala began reciting. Badson furiously turned screws, trying to get him out of his information loop.

“Neodymium; Neon; Neptunium; Nickel; Niobium; Nitrogen; Nobelium; Osmium; Oxendrium; Oxygen...”

Badson had one side of the Reducer Ring disconnected, as Thawala started going faster, and the chunks of ice grew even louder. Thawala was barking out numbers.

“37, 41, 43, 47, 53, 59, 61, 67, 71, 73, 79, 83, 89, 97, 101, 103, 107...”

A little burst of electricity was sparking from the post in his right temple.

“2897, 2903, 2909, 2917, 2927, 2939...” Thawala was screaming.

Finally, Badson got the other side loose, and threw the ring across the room, where it hummed softly for a moment, and then grew silent.

“Thank you, my friend,” screamed Thawala at the top of his lungs, nearly knocking Badson over.

Thawala hurled himself at the outer door of the Brig. It had no effect.

“Those ice chunks have piled up outside the door. We’re trapped.”

“So ice is piling up on the deck?” Badson asked.

“Yes.”

“Well, doesn’t that mean the ice is piling up on the roof of this brig? And couldn’t that stop the big chunks from crushing us?” the hope was back in his voice again.

“Theoretically you may be correct, but there’s something you’re not accounting for.”

“And what’s that?” asked Badson, angrily.

“The weight of all that ice sinking this ship.”

That wasn’t what Badson wanted to hear.

“But we won’t be crushed, right?” Badson was clutching at straws.

“Probably not,” sighed Thawala, wondering just what the hell good that did.

“You can hold your breath for a very long time, right?”

“Longer than you, I suspect, but not long enough to live in an underwater cave,” Thawala seethed, thinking again of the Bahini.

“Who said anything about that? When we sink a ways, we’ll be protected by the ice on our roof, and the water will soften the impact of the big chunks. After awhile, the ice will start to float free, and we’ll be able to pry this door open.”

“And the force of the seawater rushing in will most likely drown you,” answered Thawala.

“But it doesn’t have to,” countered Badson. “You could pin me against the wall, and take the largest amount of the impact. I could take a deep breath right then, and hold it long enough to clear the ship.”

“It’ll take us quite some time to reach the surface. You’ll drown before that.”

“Yes; yes I will,” answered Badson.

“Well, if that plan works for you, then it certainly works for me,” said Thawala.

“Look, by the time we reach the surface, I won’t have any brain damage yet.”

“No more than you already have,” Thawala sneered, “I won’t be dragging your corpse up with me.”

“Yes! Yes you will! Drag me up with you, and force the water out of my lungs, and get me breathing again!”

“What if chunks of ice are still raining down?” asked Thawala.

“Then we both die,” was Badson’s completely realistic answer.

Thawala considered it. The plan was pretty bad. He tried to think of a better one, and had no luck.

“I could just let you die, and make a break for it myself,” he pointed out.

“No, don’t do that,” said Badson, looking just a little pathetic, “don’t let me die down here.”

The door to the cell began to creak.

“I don’t think we’re going to have to pry that door open,” Thawala pointed out.

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