Board Thread:Post-Evacuation Data (Stories)/@comment-25794272-20141207153556

Chapter 1

The loch was suffocating the fog, and it made Mikey's heart ache. So much for the bonnie, bonnie banks of Loch Lomond. How could humans have allowed this to happen? They declared their love of the land, their pride in the glittering landscapes of the Trossachs, yet they just kept splurging, kept using, using, using. Mikey's eyes stung and he clenched his jaw.

"I hate my ancestors," he muttered.

Collete nudged him and when he turned to look at her, her eyes were wide and curious. He shook his head and clutched her gloved hand. She smiled and dug a miniature camera out of her pocket with her other hand. He cursed as he realised he'd left his own camera on the capsule. He'd wanted to get out and search for the Loch Ness Monster as soon as he could. His boss, Rhona Levise, hadn't thought to tell him that they were visiting Loch Lomond, not Loch Ness.

It didn't matter. If Loch Ness was in as bad a state as Loch Lomond, there'd be no Nessie to search for. If she ever had existed, the pollution would have killed her long ago. And there was nothing spectacular here to need to photograph either. Collette seemed to come to the same conclusion and stuffed the camera back into her pocket.

"We're never going to get a timeshare out of this," Collette called over to Rhona. Rhona was standing apart from them, as she always did.

"Never say never," Rhona called without turning, "At least until we've been here longer than ninety seconds."

Mikey stuck his tongue out at her back, but only for a few seconds. He didn't want to risk being caught, not after his slip-up in the capsule. The sharp, craggy rock had spiked from the ground like a fist punching through a wall and Mikey would have hit it straight on had he not swerved the capsule round so hard. It was hardly his fault that Rhona had just happened to be drinking purple carbo-juice and it just happened to dribble all the way down the front of her pale green HEATS suit. And it was Collette's fault he'd got so distracted in the first place. She should have known not to get him started on Driftball.

He paced as softly as he could through the soft ground and mud and positioned himself about three feet behind Rhona's left shoulder. Mikey fidgeted with the speaker setting on the outside of his helmet. Could it really be that quiet? The silence was as suffocating as the fog, though it often was around Rhona. He'd been travelling in that capsule for two and a half days and had forgotten what breath even sounded like.

"How about never within our lifetimes?" he asked. "I mean, just look at this ground! This is going to need to be human free for centuries!"

Rhona turned to face him. She wasn't quite frowning. But she definitely wasn't smiling. It was as if her entire face was flat, perfectly horizontal. Mikey stopped himself from gulping. Whatever she was about to say to him, he was sure it would be another reprimand.

She walked straight past him and over to Collette.

"I know you're both missing your minions but I need a pH survey by the end of the day," she said. She smiled over her shoulder at Mikey. "I take it you can manage that."

He nodded meekly, ignoring Collette's eyes as they widened in protest. He tried to look firm and pursed his lips. Rhona continued into the capsule and slid the door shut. Mikey clapped his gloves together. Their spider silk fibres flexed and stretched and felt gooey against his sweating palms. He was desperate to whip them off - his hands were burning. It was too dangerous though. Nobody knew what the Earth's atmosphere would be like now, after all these years.

Collette crouched down and produced a collapsable perspex box from the pocket across her stomach. She built it up and clicked its sides into place. She then dipped it into the bog and scooped up some of the murky liquid.

She twisted her head round over her shoulder and asked, "Can you get the universal indicator out my dispenser?"

Mikey crouched down beside her. "Which nozzle?"

"Top left," she replied.

Mikey untied the flap of cream fabric and let it hang upside down by its bottom - now top - edge. He was presented with a plastic nozzle set into a lightweight container built into the suit. Well, it was as lightweight as you made it. If you filled the whole thing with hydrocarbon residue, it was going to get pretty heavy pretty soon. Collette handed him the box and he raised it to the nozzle. He tilted the nozzle forward gently and let a few drops of universal indicator dribble into the box's contents. The drops turned instantly purple and blossomed outward. Within a blink, the amethyst hue had spread over the entire box.

"Well?" Collette asked.

"It is  ridiculously  alkaline," he reported. He showed her the box and shrugged. "Do you think Rhona will know what that means?"

Collette raised an eyebrow. "Why do you think she got us to do the science-y bit?"

"So, no?"

"Course not!," Collette exclaimed. "Look, Rhona's a very smart woman and very resourceful, but she's not a scientist. And she doesn't pretend to be."

Mikey drew back. "I just thought ..."

Collette placed a hand on his knee. "I know. But Rhona doesn't have all the answers, okay? She's not omniscient."

Mikey shrugged. "What's going on with you?"

"Leave it, Mikey," she muttered.

"But you've never said anything like this before," he pressed.

"Leave it!"

She flew to her feet and stomped through the bog to an island of firm mud. She drew a pH meter out of a leg pocket and jabbed it into the ground.

Mikey realised too late that he had been leaning on her and toppled backwards into the bog. The murky sludge splashed over his visor and he was sure it would seep in through his breathing holes. He gasped and thrashed around until he got himself on his front. He paddled messily forward a few strokes until his hand dug into something slightly more solid. Once he had a firm - firm enough - grip on the mud, he hauled himself onto it.

He glanced up. Collette was staring down at him and offering a hand. He grasped it and pulled himself to his feet. She tried to smile at him and he wondered if she realised how measly her attempt had been. She'd just looked in pain, as if she were grimacing. She was staring at him as if it was really important that she knew what he looked like. It wasn't like he was that complicated. Pale face, blonde hair, brown eyes, thin but muscular, tall. And she'd known him for years. She could probably draw him from memory easily.

"Thanks," he muttered, doing his best to scrape some of the mud off his suit.

Why wasn't she mocking him? He shook his head and looked around for the pH meter.

"It shot straight up to fourteen the moment I stuck it in the ground," Collette explained.

Mikey spun around at the sound of a door sliding open. Rhona leaned out the door frame and her head bobbed around as she looked for them.

"Over here!" Mikey called. She spotted them but didn't make any move towards them.

"We have to go," she shouted, "I just got a message."

Mikey and Collette splashed and tripped through the mud and peat to reach the capsule. By the time they dragged themselves up through the door, Mikey was sure they were sufficiently dirty to erase the memory of Rhona's juice stain from her memory.

"Who was the call from?" Mikey asked as he sealed the door.

"Etrick Stoltz," Rhona replied. "He wants to make an offer."

Mikey whirled around and snapped his jaw shut. Make an offer? What was an experienced businessman doing making an offer on an abandoned piece of land when he'd never even seen the site? Mind, Mikey thought, he'd probably have been more surprised if Stoltz had made an offer after witnessing the mess Scotland was currently in - the mess Earth was in.

 