65 - I'm In Trouble

Redcap might think this was tolerable level for fragile but Darcy could, just barely cling on.  The rain pounded on his hat and his mask was completely obscured with water running over it, which was strange.  The rains at home were never like this. He could feel the grit suspended in the water where his gloves had gaped open and the skin of his wrists was rubbed raw.

He couldn’t dare let go of the slippery surface, because Redcap had attempted to deploy the saddle straps but the vermin had already eaten all the lubricant and they were jammed, so Darcy was forced to cling on by himself.  His hands cramped on the handles at the front of the saddle and his feet were in the stirrups, but he was far enough off the ground that his clothes were soaked from the other direction, from nervous sweat.   It wasn’t like being in a flight-can being transported from place to place.  This was personal and he didn’t trust Redcap further than he could fall.

He was soaked through and every fold of his clothing and wherever it touched skin was heavy and full of sharp wet grit.  He swallowed and tried not to grimace because that would have ground the mask edge against his cheeks.

“The Lifeweed sensors report that there is an unfortunate amount of water getting in the edges of the covers, rows D, E and V thru Z. If we do not remedy the situation, the seeds will be flooded and useless,” Redcap said.

It would rot rather than sprout. A companion fungus would take over and you’d get Puffrot instead of Lifeweed.

“The covers can’t compensate?” Darcy could have kicked himself then for asking the obvious question.

“The indigenous vermin and the weather have apparently damaged the automatics beyond the ability of the covers to compensate.”

There was an ominous squeak coming from the left front hock of the horse, and an intermittent stumble every dozen steps, which didn’t make Darcy any more comfortable and only clenched his hands tighter on the saddle grips.  Literates do this for fun? That’s just nuts. He lowered his head to try and change the angle of the rain pouring off his hat but the wind kept shifting around and threatening to lift it right off his head, despite the string under his chin.

The row covers on D and E were jammed open just far enough to ruin the first four plants in the two kilometre long rows but it wasn’t nearly as bad as it could have been.  Darcy managed to hook the rotten plants out and free the blockage, while Redcap raised its forehoof and blew compressed air through the hock joint, trying to clear it.

V through Z were a disaster, the Lifeweed in all those rows ruined. The row covers had jammed open and then been blown off completely, V blown into and over the next four rows, fouling their function too.  Darcy managed to make a dozen sections retract but the others were so damaged they just flapped in the wind.  Redcap managed to deploy its manipulators and assist Darcy in folding the damaged sections and weighing them down with a rock that he certainly couldn’t have lifted alone.

Then Redcap stood and tried to reel in its waldos.  Nothing.  “Let me help,” Darcy heard himself say before he thought.  What am I doing?  I hate this thing, I want it to break down, just not here.  I need a ride home.

“No. That is not permitted.”  With an awful screeching noise one waldo retracted all the way, but the compartment would not close. The other waldo hung to its knees, quivering and squealing as Redcap struggled to close it.

“These are extraordinary circumstances, aren’t they?” Darcy just wanted the damn thing to stop trying and let them go home where he could eat something, hopefully not full of grit, drink a cup of hot grog when the sun went down and the temperature plummeted. Hopefully also not full of grit.

The waldo lashed out full extension, stopping just short of Darcy’s face and Redcap jerked back a step.  “Tha- thaaaa thaaa- that was not my com com com…That was not under my control ol ol.”

Darcy stood very still, the cover puller in his hands, hooks on both ends carefully still.  The horse threw its head up and then, abruptly, shut down. The head swung down, nose almost brushing the ground.  The rain picked up around then, and the wind.  The temperature was falling as the light failed.  The waldo swung in the wind, clicking against the leg.   
Will Recap manage to reboot?  I’m out here so far I’ll never make it back before full dark. I’ll be in serious trouble. Fak the blank page.  Darcy looked around the wide-open field right on the very edge of the continent.  Below there was a booming noise he’ couldn’t fathom, a hissing, living noise like moisture hitting a hot pan.  The rain sheeted down and his line of sight was as short as his cover puller, fading to grey rain pounding down and occasionally making him stagger.

As another gust of wind made him stagger back, the horse suddenly moved. But it wasn’t a reboot.  The wind had finally caught it hard enough that it leaned over and didn’t stop. Slowly and then with a rush it fell over with a mucky splash and lay, stiff-legged as though long dead and bloated, in the mud.