living on Mau?
It wasn’t surprising to him that they might have lived down hereto escape the heat on the surface, but why had anyone ever built the houses exposed to the elements? Maybe because cats were so fond of the sun. The Mauan cats, being short-furred, wouldn’t mind it the way the Barque Cats did. And from what he’d read, this whole culture was not only catcentric but solarcentric, so some of their time would be spent on the surface, even if the real work took place down below. He had to admit, they’d made the houses pretty cool considering the outside temperatures.
What he found odder was that the farther he went, the better constructed the tunnels seemed to be, as if the rustic ones on the upper levels had been practice for making the more sophisticated ones lower down. The people who first came here, according to what Pshaw-Ra told Chester, had advanced technology for the time. Maybe the root cellar houses had been a kind of base camp for their community while they made everything else, like the fancy hall beneath the cat idol in the temple?
After taking a wide ramp down and finding it led to a broad hall with lights that came on when he entered, he thought,
This is more like it
.
Just when Jubal began wondering where everybody worked, because so far he hadn’t seen another soul, a loud
blaaat
filled the air. Claws dug into him and Chester levitated to the ceiling, then hit the ground running ten feet in front of Jubal, who was hard on his furry heels.
A voice said something in a calm even tone, with words so garbled Jubal couldn’t tell if it was in a foreign language or only heavily accented. He got the gist of it, though. It doubtlessly meant “intruder alert.” He pounded after Chester, hoping they were stampeding in the right direction.
Down they ran through corridors and caverns, each passage taking them lower. Jubal’s breath rasped so loudly and his heart pounded in his ears so hard that he didn’t realize that the alarm had stopped until Chester halted abruptly in front of him and sat down in his path.
Keep going!
Jubal told him.
We should find cover, at least, before we stop
.
We’re covered
, Chester said, though his ears were still flat and the black fur of his back, ruff, and tail spiked to make him look twice his size.
Listen
.
A hail of footsteps and rumble of indistinct voices seemed to seep through the walls to their right.
At any time those footsteps could come through another doorway, another arch, and straight toward them. Jubal edged to the left-hand wall, thinking that if they were found, he could just tell the truth, that they’d been hunting for the kittens and become lost.
The voices ebbed, the footsteps pattered away, and he gulped to pull some moisture into his dry mouth and throat. He had never been so thirsty, and after the long sprint down first one corridor then another, he was no longer cool either. All of the water in his body was pouring out of it, soaking his skin and clothing.
Chester rose, his fur back down to normal again, and padded forward as if he were out for a stroll in a park. Jubal thought he must have run the equivalent of the length of Galipolis at least.
I smell water
, Chester said, speeding to a trot.
Jubal wondered if it would be fit to drink. He hadn’t brought a purification kit—well, he couldn’t think of everything, and when he picked items from the ship to bring with him, he hadn’t counted on a prolonged spelunking trip through the city’s innards.
Then he too smelled the water and heard the rush and slap of it.
A wall opened on the left and the girl Chione stepped out. “Unless you want to go swimming again, come with me,” she said.
“Is the underground river the same one that runs through the desert?” Jubal asked her later, in her hiding place, when he and Chester had enjoyed a long drink and what seemed to be dried fruit.
“Mmmm, this is good,” Jubal said, biting into the fruit, which had a bit of a crunch to
It wasn’t surprising to him that they might have lived down hereto escape the heat on the surface, but why had anyone ever built the houses exposed to the elements? Maybe because cats were so fond of the sun. The Mauan cats, being short-furred, wouldn’t mind it the way the Barque Cats did. And from what he’d read, this whole culture was not only catcentric but solarcentric, so some of their time would be spent on the surface, even if the real work took place down below. He had to admit, they’d made the houses pretty cool considering the outside temperatures.
What he found odder was that the farther he went, the better constructed the tunnels seemed to be, as if the rustic ones on the upper levels had been practice for making the more sophisticated ones lower down. The people who first came here, according to what Pshaw-Ra told Chester, had advanced technology for the time. Maybe the root cellar houses had been a kind of base camp for their community while they made everything else, like the fancy hall beneath the cat idol in the temple?
After taking a wide ramp down and finding it led to a broad hall with lights that came on when he entered, he thought,
This is more like it
.
Just when Jubal began wondering where everybody worked, because so far he hadn’t seen another soul, a loud
blaaat
filled the air. Claws dug into him and Chester levitated to the ceiling, then hit the ground running ten feet in front of Jubal, who was hard on his furry heels.
A voice said something in a calm even tone, with words so garbled Jubal couldn’t tell if it was in a foreign language or only heavily accented. He got the gist of it, though. It doubtlessly meant “intruder alert.” He pounded after Chester, hoping they were stampeding in the right direction.
Down they ran through corridors and caverns, each passage taking them lower. Jubal’s breath rasped so loudly and his heart pounded in his ears so hard that he didn’t realize that the alarm had stopped until Chester halted abruptly in front of him and sat down in his path.
Keep going!
Jubal told him.
We should find cover, at least, before we stop
.
We’re covered
, Chester said, though his ears were still flat and the black fur of his back, ruff, and tail spiked to make him look twice his size.
Listen
.
A hail of footsteps and rumble of indistinct voices seemed to seep through the walls to their right.
At any time those footsteps could come through another doorway, another arch, and straight toward them. Jubal edged to the left-hand wall, thinking that if they were found, he could just tell the truth, that they’d been hunting for the kittens and become lost.
The voices ebbed, the footsteps pattered away, and he gulped to pull some moisture into his dry mouth and throat. He had never been so thirsty, and after the long sprint down first one corridor then another, he was no longer cool either. All of the water in his body was pouring out of it, soaking his skin and clothing.
Chester rose, his fur back down to normal again, and padded forward as if he were out for a stroll in a park. Jubal thought he must have run the equivalent of the length of Galipolis at least.
I smell water
, Chester said, speeding to a trot.
Jubal wondered if it would be fit to drink. He hadn’t brought a purification kit—well, he couldn’t think of everything, and when he picked items from the ship to bring with him, he hadn’t counted on a prolonged spelunking trip through the city’s innards.
Then he too smelled the water and heard the rush and slap of it.
A wall opened on the left and the girl Chione stepped out. “Unless you want to go swimming again, come with me,” she said.
“Is the underground river the same one that runs through the desert?” Jubal asked her later, in her hiding place, when he and Chester had enjoyed a long drink and what seemed to be dried fruit.
“Mmmm, this is good,” Jubal said, biting into the fruit, which had a bit of a crunch to
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