Skydark Spawn

Normally the sec chief would have a wag at his disposal, but a slave had recently stolen one in an escape and they hadn’t been able to trade for a replacement yet. That made the second wag even more valuable, and the baron only wanted to let it outside the complex long enough to collect the new breeders and bring them back to the farm.

The sec chief nodded and said, “We’ll bring them back.” He started down the road at double-time to catch up with the rest of his men.

“Of course you will,” Baron Fox said. “Of course you will.”

“IT MAKES SENSE NOW,” Mildred said as the friends walked along the road toward the ville that was now less than a mile away. “The region around Niagara Falls was all farmland. Apple orchards, pears, plums, peaches and plenty of grapes for making some really good wine.”

“No more,” Jak stated.

“Not after the blast. The whole area was wiped out, except for that one farm.”

“In my day,” Doc offered, “Niagara Falls was the site of some of the most exciting theoretical discussion about the possibilities of electricity. Not to mention the incredible feat of engineering that would be required to make it possible.”

“Electricity would sure give the baron or whoever owns the farm one hell of an advantage,” J.B. commented.

“Like fuel,” Jak said.

“Better than fuel,” J.B. replied. “It’s harder to steal. No one can blow it up. And it doesn’t have to be refined. It could give them lights, even the power to pump fresh water.”

“So why hasn’t the rest of the area prospered?” Ryan asked. “If there’s power here, why is the ville empty?”

“After two hundred years the power station can’t be producing all that much electricity,” Krysty reasoned.

“He probably takes everything the station produces,” J.B. stated. “Or destroyed all the power lines, except for those running to his farm.”

“I must say the people working on the farm looked healthy enough,” Doc suggested. “They must all be doing well for themselves.”

“And for other traders,” Jak said, lifting the bag of fruit.

Ryan had to admit that the farm looked like a well-run operation. But there was still something about it that bothered him. The electrified fence was a logical defense system considering the type of muties that lurked in the area and the amount of electricity that was available. Still, it seemed to be run a little too smoothly for it to be just a farm, and he’d never seen a farm that was so well armed.

“You know,” Mildred said, “there’s another thing that Niagara Falls was known for in predark times.”

“What’s that?” J.B. asked.

“It was the honeymoon capital of North America.”

“What’s that mean?” Dean asked.

“It means that after people got married, they’d come here to, uh, celebrate by spending a lot of time in bed together.”

“Oh.”

“So that’s why the sec man said there were plenty of places to spend the night here,” Krysty said.

J.B. smiled. “Good. I could use a good night’s rest.”

“Not up to a little honeymoon, John?” Mildred chided.

“Oh, I’ll be up for it,” J.B. responded dryly.

At that moment they crested a rise in the road and suddenly Falls ville and the lake beyond it stretched out before them. There were dozens of buildings around the ville that had been destroyed by the shock waves from the initial nuke blasts, or the aftershocks that followed. But despite the damage, there were still several structures intact, such as the one that looked like a saucer set upon a knife that overlooked the water, and a cluster of buildings huddled together in the center of the ville.

The lake to the south was as big as an ocean, but was spotted by sandbars and dry patches along the shore. Water flowed over a horseshoe-shaped ridge, but it flowed only over two sections in the center of the horseshoe. The rest of the curve was dry and home to several large water birds.

“The falls have almost run dry,” Mildred said. “In predark times you’d be able to hear the water roaring from here. Millions of gallons of fresh water every minute, day and night, 365 days a year.”

“Now falls like rain,” Jak commented.

“Producing enough electricity to operate one farm, but not enough for an entire ville,” J.B. said.

“There’s something else I just realized,” Mildred said.

“What is it?” Ryan asked.

“If that’s Niagara Falls,” she said, taking a look at the geography around her, “then we’re on the Canadian side of what used to be the border.”

Chapter Six

“Being located in Canada would explain a lot about the construction of the gateway,” Ryan said.

“Anyone using it would be looking to get out of the country in a hurry,” J.B. surmised. “So it probably served as an escape hatch, mebbe for military commanders or politicians.”

“But there’s such a large underground system of redoubts and installations,” Krysty said. “Why would a one-way escape gateway be needed?”

“Things go wrong,” J.B. suggested. “Even underground fortresses can be infiltrated, especially from the inside. That gateway could get someone out of one hot spot without the risk of them landing in another one.”

Krysty considered J.B.’s reasoning. “So the trip through the gateway was meant to be one-way.”

“Someone going through that gateway likely wasn’t welcome back in the United States, probably wouldn’t want to go back to it, either.”

“All this talk of travel has made me rather famished,” Doc interjected. “Might it be possible to have one of those delectable fruits we are carrying?”

Ryan took a good look around. He hadn’t seen a mutie for some time. Although he had noticed a few of the creatures following the friends earlier on, they had dropped away now that the ville was near. They had another half hour before they reached it, and the route looked like fairly easy going. They had time to snack now while they walked, but when they entered the ville, they would need to be on the alert. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to eat something now.”

“I’ll have a peach, then,” Doc said, quickly pulling one of the fuzzy fruit from the bag he was carrying.

“Me, too,” Dean said.

Doc tossed Dean the peach he was about to eat, then pulled a second one from the bag for himself.

“I’ve got apples and pears in this bag,” J.B. said.

“Apricots and plums in mine,” Krysty added.

“I’ll have a few of each,” Mildred said. “My father used to make the best plum sauce in three counties. We’d have it on pancakes every Sunday after church.”

Krysty handed Mildred a handful of deep purple and golden-yellow fruits.