Project Lorraine Chapter #7: A Winter's Tale.
"We're early: I'll take you the scenic route."
Pete led me into the the Nest's dim maze of un-marked doors and oft-crooked passages. I noted different styles of masonry, plus some modern brick-work, shuttered concrete and RSJ lintels.
"Core looks like a Medieval under-croft..." I commented.
"We think parts are older..." Pete allowed, "Chronicles mention finding the skull of a cave-bear..."
"Makes sense." I nodded, "I'd guess the original builders broke through into natural caves. Alignments keep shifting between orthogonal and the natural faulting."
"Does that tell you where you are ?"
I thought about it, "No more than the van-ride did. Even if some-one twisted my arm, I could only estimate within a dozen miles."
"Good." Pete nodded, "We'd notice a search."
"Okay..." I grinned, plucking my leather braces, "So why Lederhosen ?"
"Good question !" Pete laughed, "The Nest's first real Teacher was half-Austrian. She went with what she knew. It wears well. It has pockets, a pouch. And, it has hand-holds-- Our Little Folk are slippery as eels, quick as Imps--"
"Imps ?"
"Figure of speech..." Pete sighed, "We have old stories, but no proof..."
"Ah. Pete, you seem comfortable in 'School Uniform'. Are you so young ?"
"Nooo..." Pete grinned, "They are our Romper suits, too ! No other material will endure such rough play ! It also says 'Off Duty'."
"One HomoSap expression is, 'Let Your Hair Down'." I chuckled, "Another is, 'School's Out' ! Hmm, are we nearly there yet ?"
"Couple more turns..."
The next door was not wood. An old, oval steel sea-door set in a rough concrete bulkhead, it had heavy 'dogs' and a porthole with its permanent deadlight clamped shut. Pete tapped the bulkhead's twin float-gauges, glanced into their drip-catcher, an incongruous yellow plastic bucket, "Dry."
He turned the switch on a high-mounted junction box, opened the porthole's cover, peered through the heavy glass, "And low water... Safe to un-dog."
The heavy door opened on a small cave, lit by two bulkhead lamps. Cool, moist air drifted from a deep gulley, small stalagtites hung in a corner, flow-stone smoothed the bedding-plane.
"Oh, pretty !" I smiled, glancing about, "Cave fish, too ?"
"Sometimes." Pete nodded, "Storms wash them out. And that's the reason I've brought you here."
"Er, I don't have much caving experience..."
"No need." Pete shook his head, "Fully mapped... But, see the depth gauge ?"
I'd given the clearly marked pole a glance. It was clamped between floor and ceiling, had stains around its ankles, "Uh-huh ?"
"Behind it ?"
"Ah !" Small, arrowed plaques were spiked to the stone. Several were modern. One, remarkably close to the roof, was almost lost to tarnish. It was certainly older than the wall and door, "Wow ! A 'Century Flood' ? There'd be a fair hydraulic head on that-- And if cave syphons fill, you'd get over-pressure, too."
"They did." Pete nodded, "The Old Watergate failed."
"Bad..." I whispered, "Very bad..."
"The way the Chronicles tell it, the Nest was waist-deep for two days. A dozen drowned. Many were badly injured, most were sick. Much food was spoiled, stocks were halved. They lost their Trustees to the chill--"
"Hypothermia." I nodded, "I'm surprised anyone survived..."
"But the local village was hit worse. The river burst its bank, washed three cottages away, wrecked others. Cattle drowned in their byres, harvests failed, root-crops rotted. Unseasonal frosts killed the higher plantings..." Pete shivered, "The Summer wasn't, and Winter came early. They would surely freeze or starve..."
I'd been peering at the plaque, had made out the leading 1, an 8, another 1, and, "Of course ! 'Eighteen Hundred and Starved To Death' !! 1816, the 'Year Without A Summer' !! Volcano, volcano-- Tambora ! Erupted 1815, but took six months to veil the planet... Krakatoa was a loud hiccup by comparison."
"The Moon was tainted, the very air was fouled." Pete nodded grimly, "But an Elder remembered another time-- and mistakes made. Unless the Nest acted, the local community would perish. Without them, the Nest must move..."
"You could warn them of a Wolf-winter--" I shook my head, "They had nothing ! What could they do ?"
"The Nest made a dreadful decision: They must twice break with tradition." Pete stated, "The Acting NestMaster sent a message to the village Elders. He offered to share our food and shelter in return for their silence and lawful help..."
"Clever." I nodded, "Even now, Vampirism --per se-- is not unlawful. Which is why SOTM handle it..."
"Yes. They must have thought he was a Frenchy, smuggler or Radical, but that 'lawful' provision was the hook. They swore."
"They must have had a shock when they saw the truth !!"
"I dare say they did ! The Chronicles are, uh, vague on the detail. But the villagers needed food and shelter, no less than the Nest needed the village... " Pete shrugged, "Well, they kept their word. Nest and villagers alike went hungry. All suffered from the cold. None starved, few died. The villagers rebuilt. The Nest endured."
"And as for blood-letting--" I chuckled, "Chirurgeons and Barbers did that anyway ! Hence Monty's oath ?"
"I'm told so..." Pete nodded, "But the Nest's second step set them apart from all others: This Nest and daughter Nests begat from here would not Bend their HomoSap helpers. Instead, we are BloodKin."
I had to think through the implications, "So Frank is not of this Nest ?"
"Elder Frank is from a *very* traditional Nest." Pete grinned, "He was invited to discuss, plan and observe the experiment. Us Progressive Youngsters have been a trial unto him..."
"And then I arrived..." I suppressed a giggle, "I reckon he's had his money's worth !! Okay, I'll give you a hand with this door..."
"We're early: I'll take you the scenic route."
Pete led me into the the Nest's dim maze of un-marked doors and oft-crooked passages. I noted different styles of masonry, plus some modern brick-work, shuttered concrete and RSJ lintels.
"Core looks like a Medieval under-croft..." I commented.
"We think parts are older..." Pete allowed, "Chronicles mention finding the skull of a cave-bear..."
"Makes sense." I nodded, "I'd guess the original builders broke through into natural caves. Alignments keep shifting between orthogonal and the natural faulting."
"Does that tell you where you are ?"
I thought about it, "No more than the van-ride did. Even if some-one twisted my arm, I could only estimate within a dozen miles."
"Good." Pete nodded, "We'd notice a search."
"Okay..." I grinned, plucking my leather braces, "So why Lederhosen ?"
"Good question !" Pete laughed, "The Nest's first real Teacher was half-Austrian. She went with what she knew. It wears well. It has pockets, a pouch. And, it has hand-holds-- Our Little Folk are slippery as eels, quick as Imps--"
"Imps ?"
"Figure of speech..." Pete sighed, "We have old stories, but no proof..."
"Ah. Pete, you seem comfortable in 'School Uniform'. Are you so young ?"
"Nooo..." Pete grinned, "They are our Romper suits, too ! No other material will endure such rough play ! It also says 'Off Duty'."
"One HomoSap expression is, 'Let Your Hair Down'." I chuckled, "Another is, 'School's Out' ! Hmm, are we nearly there yet ?"
"Couple more turns..."
The next door was not wood. An old, oval steel sea-door set in a rough concrete bulkhead, it had heavy 'dogs' and a porthole with its permanent deadlight clamped shut. Pete tapped the bulkhead's twin float-gauges, glanced into their drip-catcher, an incongruous yellow plastic bucket, "Dry."
He turned the switch on a high-mounted junction box, opened the porthole's cover, peered through the heavy glass, "And low water... Safe to un-dog."
The heavy door opened on a small cave, lit by two bulkhead lamps. Cool, moist air drifted from a deep gulley, small stalagtites hung in a corner, flow-stone smoothed the bedding-plane.
"Oh, pretty !" I smiled, glancing about, "Cave fish, too ?"
"Sometimes." Pete nodded, "Storms wash them out. And that's the reason I've brought you here."
"Er, I don't have much caving experience..."
"No need." Pete shook his head, "Fully mapped... But, see the depth gauge ?"
I'd given the clearly marked pole a glance. It was clamped between floor and ceiling, had stains around its ankles, "Uh-huh ?"
"Behind it ?"
"Ah !" Small, arrowed plaques were spiked to the stone. Several were modern. One, remarkably close to the roof, was almost lost to tarnish. It was certainly older than the wall and door, "Wow ! A 'Century Flood' ? There'd be a fair hydraulic head on that-- And if cave syphons fill, you'd get over-pressure, too."
"They did." Pete nodded, "The Old Watergate failed."
"Bad..." I whispered, "Very bad..."
"The way the Chronicles tell it, the Nest was waist-deep for two days. A dozen drowned. Many were badly injured, most were sick. Much food was spoiled, stocks were halved. They lost their Trustees to the chill--"
"Hypothermia." I nodded, "I'm surprised anyone survived..."
"But the local village was hit worse. The river burst its bank, washed three cottages away, wrecked others. Cattle drowned in their byres, harvests failed, root-crops rotted. Unseasonal frosts killed the higher plantings..." Pete shivered, "The Summer wasn't, and Winter came early. They would surely freeze or starve..."
I'd been peering at the plaque, had made out the leading 1, an 8, another 1, and, "Of course ! 'Eighteen Hundred and Starved To Death' !! 1816, the 'Year Without A Summer' !! Volcano, volcano-- Tambora ! Erupted 1815, but took six months to veil the planet... Krakatoa was a loud hiccup by comparison."
"The Moon was tainted, the very air was fouled." Pete nodded grimly, "But an Elder remembered another time-- and mistakes made. Unless the Nest acted, the local community would perish. Without them, the Nest must move..."
"You could warn them of a Wolf-winter--" I shook my head, "They had nothing ! What could they do ?"
"The Nest made a dreadful decision: They must twice break with tradition." Pete stated, "The Acting NestMaster sent a message to the village Elders. He offered to share our food and shelter in return for their silence and lawful help..."
"Clever." I nodded, "Even now, Vampirism --per se-- is not unlawful. Which is why SOTM handle it..."
"Yes. They must have thought he was a Frenchy, smuggler or Radical, but that 'lawful' provision was the hook. They swore."
"They must have had a shock when they saw the truth !!"
"I dare say they did ! The Chronicles are, uh, vague on the detail. But the villagers needed food and shelter, no less than the Nest needed the village... " Pete shrugged, "Well, they kept their word. Nest and villagers alike went hungry. All suffered from the cold. None starved, few died. The villagers rebuilt. The Nest endured."
"And as for blood-letting--" I chuckled, "Chirurgeons and Barbers did that anyway ! Hence Monty's oath ?"
"I'm told so..." Pete nodded, "But the Nest's second step set them apart from all others: This Nest and daughter Nests begat from here would not Bend their HomoSap helpers. Instead, we are BloodKin."
I had to think through the implications, "So Frank is not of this Nest ?"
"Elder Frank is from a *very* traditional Nest." Pete grinned, "He was invited to discuss, plan and observe the experiment. Us Progressive Youngsters have been a trial unto him..."
"And then I arrived..." I suppressed a giggle, "I reckon he's had his money's worth !! Okay, I'll give you a hand with this door..."
