Path: usenet.ins.cwru.edu!howland.reston.ans.net!swrinde!sgiblab!sgigate.sgi.com!oli vea!charnel.ecst.csuchico.edu!xmission!xmission!not-for-mail From: Andrew Weitzman Newsgroups: alt.devilbunnies Subject: Re: Kralk enters UCirc Followup-To: alt.devilbunnies Date: 9 Oct 1994 14:41:33 -0600 Organization: DevilBunnies News<->Mail Gateway Lines: 124 Sender: snowhare@xmission.com Approved: snowhare@xmission.com Distribution: world Message-ID: <379kht$ef0@xmission.xmission.com> Reply-To: Andrew Weitzman NNTP-Posting-Host: xmission > > The ground dropped out from beneath them, and they slid down a chute to > land in a jumble on a small platform, surrounded by metal bars and broken > glass. Teral gave another signal and the bars retracted, and they headed > for the warren. > > "Welcome to UCirc," Teral said as they passed through the last security > door, "I hope you enjoy your stay." He did *not* like the look on Kralk's > face when he said that... > Kralk cursed as the greeting party led him deeper into the "warren". The ceilings here were barely five feet high--at best; he had to twist his back just like Hillis to move at all. The red squirrels in front of him seemed about as trustworthy as his former colleague; even his limited psychic abilities could tell the lot were just on this side of hysteria. Of course, perhaps that was normal... "Sorry we were delayed [flick]." Teral kept wrinkling his nose; in the close quarters of the tunnel, the...odour of Kralk's improvised disguise was overpowering. "We've been overstretched since Loren had go away on, er, a business trip." "I'm sure. How is that scout of yours, by the way? I hope there were no injuries." "Oh, he'll recover. The burns weren't that deep--" "Burns?" "Uh, well, since Loren left, everyone's been a bit jumpy. Rumours get around, and some of the lasers have a light trigger pull. We've been cracking down on that." I wager you have, Kralk thought with displeasure. His finely-honed paranoia began to warn him to be cautious, indeed. The warren leader was away, scouts on routine duties were shot without provocation, inefficiency. This place was on the thin edge of chaos, and he had walked right into the tinderbox. He'd have to be careful about sparks... "Kralk? Kralk!" He roused himself. The squirrels had led him to a long, low room. Squirrels--reds and a few grays--scurried about in labcoats. The equipment they tended was not the junk sort he had expected; in fact, it was very well appointed. "Sorry. Sleep has been a bit on the rare side, Teral." "Oh! We'll get you a room. Mercan!" A sullen little red jumped to attention. "Requisition a room for our guest here." "Sir, the warren's pretty low on space", Mercan objected. "Get. Him. The. Room." Kralk was almost amused--a squirrel in a towering rage looked rather like a vibrating mitten. And about as menacing. It must have seemed intimidating enough for Mercan--he scurried about his task quickly enough. "So, I see you have a fairly good scientific establishment here," Kralk observed. "We grab a lot of what we need from the Case Western labs. The rest we improvise. Chris can tell you more about that." "Chris?" "Our mentat." Kralk bit down on the involuntary disgust the word "mentat" brought to his throat. Teral chittered in squirrel. A small body detached itself from a group standing by a complex-looking arrangement of valves; Kralk recognized it as part of a hydroponics system. The newcomer glared at Teral with his beady little eyes. The two engaged in a spirited exchange of tailflicks and teeth-gnashing. It was, he surmised, not a pleasnt one. Finally, the squirrelmentat named Chris deigned to speak to him in English. "Welcome to Ucirc labs, Kroak--" Chris started. "Kralk", he corrected. "I'm bad with names. I'd give you the dime tour and all, but with Loren gone we've been digging at the slushpile." "Chris!" Teral was bristling. "Perfectly understandable, commander," Kralk said soothingly. Chris, he vowed, was going to become a finger puppet if he kept this up. "I'd like to look around, though, if you don't mind." "I do. I'm sure you can be helpful, Dr. Kralk, but right now--Hey!" Kralk cradled the weird rucksack to his chest. Damned beast nearly made me drop it! "I was merely inspecting it. Professional curiosity--" "You can do that without that bounce pack." "Bounce pack?" Kralk honeyed his tone. "Fascinating! What does it do?" "Just what it's named for. It helps us jump farther." "Oh. Is that all?" "Is that--" Chris spluttered in indignation. "Well, I can hardly say otherwise. I'd be impressed, if you gave me any reason to be impressed. Mentat." For an answer, Chris ripped the "bounce pack" from Kralk's grasp. A sizable crowd of labtechs had gathered, and Chris was not about to lose face in front of this--human! He strapped the device to his back. Kralk inspected his fingernails as the squirrelmentat made a few key adjustments. He even managed a yawn as the pack emitted a high electric whine. Then his jaw dropped to the floor when Chris made a flat leap along the length of the room. All ten meters of it. ******* Kralk's quarters were small, cramped, and without plumbing. He didn't care a whit. Gods! A *gravity nullifier*! He had never heard of anything like it, not even in the scraps of devilbunny technology he had ferreted out over the years. It made sense, of course; in the wild, squirrels worried about falling as they made their leaps from branch to branch. This was simply the application of technology to solve a common problem. But--to actually bring it off with their resources! Ucirc was obviously a chaotic mess, and would continue to be so even if Loren made his belated return. Kralk, however, knew he had to stay. Among all the anti-devilbunny groups he had seen, only Ucirc had the scientific talent and industrial base to support it. A crunching sound penetrated his reverie. He turned to see Mercan chewing a walnut, spitting the pieces suspiciously close to his booted feet. Kralk grinned. He really shouldn't--his situation was precarious as it was. It would come out sooner or later, though. And later would miss out on a *perfect* opportunity to give impudent little tree-rats like Mercan and Chris a good scare. He pulled off the right glove. Mercan stared at the four-digit paw, its sharp claws extended in an attack position. Kralk flicked off the slouch hat; he sighed as his lapine right ear popped back into its accustomed jaunty attitude. What finally put a corker on his performance came as he tore the bandages covering his face. Mercan stared for four long seconds. His laser-rifle clattered to the floor. Then he ran out with a high -pitched shriek of pure terror. Yes, Kralk thought, I *am* going to like this place after all. TBC (take it, Teral) -- ------------------------------------------------- Andrew Weitzman aweitz@CAM.org alt.devilbunnies characters: N!klot, Jeremy Hillis, Dr. Lawrence Kralk, and the Amazing BunnyStomper(tm)!