High Noon on Jefferson (scifi story): Chapter Thirteen

Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

My indigo faded back to cerulean to just robin egg and then faded away altogether. Veena saw to it. She kept me busy and entertained that day. I was glum when I went home, but better than I had been when I went into school. I was tired, even exhausted. Not even Mom's cooking could get me out of the full funk.

Something was clearly wrong. With me or with something that happened to me.

Mom could tell. She tried to talk to me when my homework was done, but I sat down on my bed to listen and talk to her, but I passed out. Mom covered me up with a blanket and left the room.

I woke up when it was pitch black outside. We had an overcast and grimaced. What had awoken me was the bouncing of small puffballs. Their bioluminescence made them faint in color as they were blown by the breeze and bounced along the roofs and into my window. Fortunately, the window was sealed. This was Jefferson with the evil taxitos, after all. A number of them stacked up like lightly lit up balloons before the breeze dropped and they all fell down. Fortunately, it wasn't a Seventh Year. I hoped to be out of puberty by the next Seventh.

As has become more and more apparent, the ecology of Jefferson was like a giant orrery with cycles within cycles. There were creatures and plants that reproduced every three years. Others did it every five years. Still others 7, 11, 13, 17, and 19 years. There was a rumor of a devastating 29 year cycle. The cockatrice, basilisk, leviathans lived on a cycle like that. Other animals did, too. So, too, did the glowing and beautiful, seemingly harmless but utterly terrifying for teenagers puffballs.

Puffballs were the Jefflife equivalent of fungus. Or a fungus. They grew "fruit" like balls. Then when whatever they were helping decay finished, they would detach and roll and bounce along like Russian tumble weeds. And should they find something worth helping through its decaying phase, they'd grow new roots until that was exhausted. They glowed so they would attract animals to eat them. The gnashed up bits would grow back into smaller puffballs and help the fecal matter decay faster. Then blow away. However, every seven years, they explode. Well, not exactly, but...they dry out and then then disintegrate. Sometimes dramatically. In the worst cases, swathes of puff powder could bury whole areas. Not super deep, but enough that the fine powder could cause reactions to people's lungs and kill pets and crops. That was entirely something that could be dealt with though and rarely got that bad.

Dad commented the puffballs were the wrong color: they were supposed to be cotton candy pink, he said. Otherwise, they'd never attracted Chtorran worms. I didn't get the reference.

HOWEVER! What teenagers fear the Seventh Year puffball explosions. Why?! Because the spores caused Jefflife acne. On human teenagers. Anyone in the throws of puberty was a potential victim. Why? Because the puffball spores would try to grow in teenager skin pores. They'd die within 24 hours, but where they tried, there was now a great big zit. I hoped and prayed that I made it out the other side of puberty without getting hit by that oncoming train. those zits were huge, painful and fugly. And if you were really unlucky, it glowed a little bit, too. Yick.

So, I, like everyone roughly age twelve to nineteen, hated the puffball menace. Even if they were pretty when we were kids. Perhaps they would be again once I am an adult. Perhaps not. Though, honestly, when they exploded, you could see tinted winds and at night, those bits of dust could glow, too. I suspected I would find that beautiful once more. Once it was not really a dermatological threat again.

I shucked myself out of my clothes and went back to bed. I made a mental note to my booster to remind me to start gathering supplies tomorrow for the trip to Dad's. Discretely. No need to have Mom think something was up. No need to alert Dad that I knew something was up either.

The next day, I started walking to school when I heard a buzzing. I looked around and didn't see a thing. I was a bit worried. Humans had only lived on Jefferson for a few decades now, so new lifeforms could pop up regularly. I pulled out my needler and watched. And listened. And whatever it was went away. I shrugged at first and put away my needler. There was something odd about it though. The buzzing sounded less like an insect and more...well...metallic. I couldn't put a mental finger on why it did, but it was there.

And it was concerning.

Robot lizards.

Metallic buzzing.

Something was really, really wrong.

I hurried to school and my friends.

We needed to talk and tink and plan.

Because tomorrow we were going to my Dad's house. And we had a mystery and probably a significant crime to uncover.