Free Catalyst by Ross Richdale Page B

half dragged into the flapping tent. Lem
shouted something in her ear.
    "Oxygen," he yelled. "Put on the mask."
    She felt his hand place a small plastic mask over her
face. There was a faint hiss inside her head and cool fresh air
entered her raw throat. She could breath!
    "Take it slowly." Lem's muffled voice punctured her
senses. "The air is being sucked away."
    Renee opened her eyes, rubbed the stinging tears
aside and glanced around. Orange canvas flapped above the dark blue
floor. Courtney was coughing beside her but had managed to pull the
tent door zipper down.
    Renee breathed that fresh, delicious oxygen into her
lungs and squeezed Lem's hand. "Thank you."
    But there was no time to say more. Another gigantic
rumble made her jump in terror and the world blacked out. Total
blackness surrounded her as if someone had punched out her eyes but
all other senses were on overdrive. She felt dust even inside the
tent. The taste of grit filled her mouth, her eyes smarted and she
could smell scorched milk.
    Scorched milk, how could that be? It wasn't, of
course but there was a distinct aroma of burnt objects.
    A light came on, a local friendly light. Lem had
turned on his helmet flashlight.
    "The tent!" Courtney screamed.
    Renee frowned before she understood. The flapping
stopped. Everything became quiet but this was only momentary. When
the flapping began again it was less powerful and only buffeted the
canvas gently but while the air was still dust-laden, it felt
different.
    Lem removed his mask and a pale smile came to his
lips. "We have air. I think we can breathe without the masks."
    Renee removed her mask and took several tentative
breaths. The air appeared fresh. The wind slowed to a breeze and
finally nothing. Lem looked as if he'd grown a ginger-beard and
Courtney was wide- eyed and open-mouthed.
    "What was it?" the youngster gasped.
    "An explosion followed by a cave-in, I think," Lem
answered. "It sucked our air away and the following landslide
collapsed the cave to our east and sealed us in."
    "But we can breathe," Courtney argued.
    "There must be an entrance somewhere in the direction
where we fell in. Perhaps the earthquake made a hole."
    Renee replied, "New air from the upper cave rushed
into the vacuum. That was the changed wind direction."
    "I'd say so," Lem concluded.
    Renee found Lem's arm around her and noticed he also
held the shaking teenager. She began to speak but stopped. Another
earthquake had arrived. The tent shook, some equipment outside
clanged, the shake subsided and silence returned to their lonely
prison.
    "Oh, Lem," Renee cried. "Is it over?"
    "I think so. Stay here and I'll slip out for a
peek."
    He squeezed both their arms and walked away.
    "I was petrified," Courtney confessed. "When I
couldn't breathe I thought that was it."
    Their conversation was interrupted when Lem returned.
"It's a mess out there but the air is fresh. Even the hot stink has
gone. However, the light doesn't go on and all contact with the
surface is broken." He produced a flask. "Here, quench your
throats. The food is all over the place." He sat and grinned.
"There'll be no more earthquakes, though." Nobody said a word and
his expectant look turned to disappointment. "Well, aren't you
going to ask why?"
    "I know why," Renee whispered.
    "I don't. How?" Courtney shrieked in
exasperation.
    Renee pulled back the tent flap. "The glowworms have
lit up." She frowned. "I'd forgotten but just before it happened,
I'm sure they switched off. I glanced up from my book and saw it.
Seconds later the quake started."
    "So it must be a good sign," Lem added.
    "But how would a tiny insect know?" Courtney
asked.
    "They knew," Lem replied. "And I reckon they know
it's okay now."
    And so it was. No more tremors arrived, the air
remained pure and a million glowworms covered their artificial sky
like friends offering guidance and support. Ten minutes later the
light came on but the microphone and speaker remained silent.
    "Well, back to being