Donald Moffitt - Genesis 01

tarpaulins draped over an arrangement of garden poles. Cautiously he worked one of the poles loose. The tarpaulin sagged a little at that point but was otherwise undisturbed. He peeked between the plastic sheets. The guard was still talking to the girl. So far Bram had attracted no notice. He got out the little knife and lashed it to the end of the garden pole with a length of bandage.
    Now he had to wait. He put the pole down where it would be partially obscured by the skirt of the tarpaulin.
    A colonist, half asleep, came to visit the latrine. He looked curiously at the loitering Bram, but he didn’t say anything. When he left, Bram peeked through the curtain again. The tunnel guard was still preoccupied with his female hanger-on, but he looked up briefly to give the departing colonist an indifferent glance. The interruption had probably been a help; the guard had seen someone leave the latrine, giving Bram more grace in case the guard was counting.
    Now the guard dragged the girl by the hand over to the other side of the tunnel mouth; he was going to pay a visit to his colleague. It was now or never. Bram stood up with the improvised spear in his hand. The biolight tube dipped quite low here, on its way to the reservoir that must be just on the other side of the chamber wall. The circulating pump that sent the living solution through the pipes would be close and strong; Bram could see the pulsating surges that made the light alternately blaze and fade.
    He could just reach the transparent pipe. No good trying to puncture it with the squared-off blade; he slashed and sawed with all his might. The tough chitinous material resisted, and if it had been granted days, it would have repaired the scratches. But at last Bram got a groove going, and he began to saw steadily without the blade slipping. It seemed to him that every eye must be on the waggling pole protruding above the screen, but he dared not stop to take a look.
    A few fiery droplets of cold light rained down on him, and with a savage thrust he pushed the knife all the way through, twisted, and pried the lesion wide open.
    The fluid with its glowing microscopic life spilled out, and the overhead pipes near the tunnel began to drain. The circulating pump worked vainly, forcing a stream of fluorescing solution through the severed end, to splash on the ground and collect in a pool.
    Another sleepy colonist came blundering through the partition at that moment. It couldn’t be helped. Bram pushed past him, almost bowling him over, and ran into the darkness with his spear.
    The biolights faded and died all through the dome. A garish flood of illumination seeped through the plastic partition, dazzling anyone who looked at it. Bram hoped all the guards would be looking in that direction, the light wiping out their night vision. The man he had knocked aside had somehow tangled himself in the plastic sheeting and was tottering around, pulling tarpaulins with him. The sleepers nearest the latrine were up, milling around and adding to the confusion.
    Dim shapes collided with Bram. Feet pounded past him. “Get him!” a hoarse voice shouted. The unfortunate man who had enmeshed himself in plastic and was blundering around at the focus of the spilled light was the object of attention.
    Whatever Penserites were among those who brushed past Bram in the dark must have assumed that, with his weapon, he was one of them. He slipped through the tunnel entrance, keeping close to the wall on the side opposite to where the guards had been chitchatting with their female friend. But by now, Bram reasoned, they would be converging on the center of the commotion, anyway.
    A thousand yards down the tunnel, he paused for breath. When he looked back, the tunnel mouth was a cold flicker of light from the spreading pool of spilled biofluid. That would grow dull and die soon. No one was coming after him. Any minute now someone would think of plugging up the cut pipe and turning on the artificial sunlight.
    Bram darted down the first side tunnel he came to. After traveling another hundred yards and going around a bend that cut off his line of sight, he felt safer.
    The tunnel didn’t seem to be in use, but it was being worked on. A large, multilegged construction machine whose forward end was an enormous auger was half embedded in an unfinished excavation in the wood, and there was some casual litter that had been left behind by the workmen. In a stroke of good fortune, Bram found several