Tunnel Rat

"Ooblipimese demands more mass..."

One of the lower brethren scampered off and came back with what looked like some dried mushrooms and a desiccated gopher and tossed them into the small opening of the large glass container. They fell down into the white ooze that was filling the bottom third of the jar and slowly started dissolving as the little slime absorbed the mass.

Two other jars had similar oozes in them, all yelling to be fed. The original plan of 'Careful observation and experimentation' had gone out the window when some of the more chaotic of the dwarves had heard the ooze begging for food. Before they knew it, the overfed ooze was near the top of its vat.

Separating it into three vats spawned more personalities. Ooblipimese demanded mass and was quite sullen. Ooblip, the Lesser of Two Puddings, whined and begged for food and purred as it digested a meal. Ooblip Face-Eater growled and thrashed in his containment jar, secreting large amounts of high-potency acid.

The Chief declared Face-Eater to be useful, and plans were made for a much larger and stronger containment jar for it, with special filters to drain the acid without letting out any bits of ooze.

Of the other two, Ooblipimese was the less popular, and it got to test out various substances designed to neutralize acids and oozes. It was found that even a small amount of 'High Potency Cleansing Agent B-37' would create an instant reaction that reduced its mass and left it cowering on one side of the jar. The powder had been used for centuries to clean up spills of acidic nature and was potent when used against the white acidic oozes.

Milo explored a different line of experimentation. Separating out a fourth ooze, the short-lived Ooplipapatamus proved to not like waste fluid sprayed on it, and really, really didn't like being set on fire. Within a minute, the ooze was just an oily stain in the bottom of the jar, along with a small nugget of dark steel.

Plans were quickly made. A dozen large tanks were moved into the area of the borehole, each holding thousands of gallons of waste fluid. These were all connected to a pipe that exited into the borehole 50 feet down the shaft.

A huge chunk of metal-encased stone was suspended just to the side of the borehole and two stories in the air. The Chief explained its use to Milo. "I don't want to lose the drill. That’s a thousand feet of hardened dark steel shaft leading down to a diamond-encrusted bore head. But if we can't stop the damned pudding, we'll have to sever the shaft, move the plug into position, and let it go. It's just a bit wider than the borehole at its top.”

“The force of the drop will put it down 20' into the bore, where it will jam tight. There are explosive bolts inside that will then trigger, driving spikes into the side of the bore in a dozen places. Nothing will move that, and it will buy us weeks of time to come up with another counter for the ooze."

Milo looked over at the borehole. More cables had been strung. A much larger bucket was being loaded with High Potency Cleansing Agent B-37. The powder was bright orange in color, and Milo overheard one senior engineer just refer to it as 'Agent Orange.' The smaller bucket that would hold someone Milo’s size was above it by 50 feet. Milo looked at the setup and spoke to the Chief. "It looks like, that in addition to the mechanisms for distributing Agent Orange, there is an operator’s bucket. As if you need someone to observe the reaction and make sure the experiment is a success."

The Chief patted Milo on the back. "Your powers of observation are strong, young engineer. And because you are the first person to bring this to my attention, I reward you with the position of observer in the coming operation."

Milo sighed. "I'm suspecting that the reward for any job well done is just another job."

The Chief chuckled. "Indeed. Welcome to the ranks of the trusted and competent. While lesser engineers tighten bolts and dream of whiskey, those with skill get to work their ass off."

"But seriously: Be careful down there. These little shits we have in jars aren't the same as the monster down there. It may react differently. Keep your filter mask on. We reinforced the lining of your hard hat with three layers of aluminum foil to give more protection against its mental attacks. Dump some agent orange, back up a bit, and if you're in trouble, jerk the emergency cord, and hold on tight. We'll get you back up here."

The descent down the tunnel went slower this time. Without knowing just how far up the pudding had come, Milo had to be careful in going down. At just past the 600' mark, he started to feel something like an itching in his head. At 700', he could understand distinct words.

"....fear not...no fear...be happy...Ooblipimux comes to hug you...be one with the Ever-Pudding...share masses...happy...oh so happy...no resist the pudding love!..."

Milo had much resistance to pudding love! When he could finally see the undulating white mass, he pulled a cord to one of the barrels attached to the bigger bucket and dumped a large barrel of Agent Orange. The results were all he could have hoped for...and a few things he would have gladly skipped.

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Ooblipimux stopped his cheery monologue and screamed. Milo covered his ears, but the scream was in his mind, and he felt just the edge of the pudding’s actual thoughts. It was losing mass, and hated it. Agent Orange turned the whitish ooze into a stinking brown liquid that bubbled and gave off noxious gases. He was glad for the Chief's warning to keep his mask on. It made breathing harder, but other than a bad taste in his mouth, it was filtering out the harmful gases.

Eventually, though, the sheer mass of Ooblipimux defeated the acid-neutralizing powder. The ooze had retreated 50' down the shaft. Or maybe lost that much mass? But it wasn't discouraged. The screaming stopped, and the voice came again.

"You will feed us! We see you! "

Milo was worried the thing might build resistance to small doses of agent orange. He tried replying to the voice in his head as he shouted down at it. He thought of the mechanical clog-eaters he used in the pipes in Section E. The grinders eating away at anything in their way, turning the obstructions into mulch that was flushed down the drains.

"Ooblipmux is just a clog! You dare to come into my pipe, and I will flush you away. Your mass is nothing! The Ever-Pudding will die and become just a stain."

He pulled on the other three cables and dumped all three remaining side barrels at once. Grabbing the main cable to dump the bucket, he met resistance. The mechanism was jammed. He jumped down to the bucket, hanging by one hand, his tail wrapped around the cables, and banged on the stuck lever with a wrench. The noxious vapors had actually decayed the metal and caused the jam. On the third hit, it came loose and several tons of Agent Orange dumped onto the ooze below. Milo scampered as fast as he could back up to his bucket and kept going higher.

The shaft vibrated as Ooblipimux the Ever-Pudding thrashed in pain. Milo held the thought in his head of a clog-eater grinding away at a white, oozing clog. With the sound of a toilet flushing, the ooze rapidly fell down the shaft, then silence, followed by a distant sound of thousands of tons of ooze going 'plop' as it hit the bottom of the cave.

Milo signaled to be lowered down further. Down he went, past the areas where the pudding had been climbing the shaft and finally to where the borehole opened out into a huge cavern. It was lit with the eerie light of glowing lichen on the walls and ceiling. 50' below him, Milo saw the drill head, free and clear of clinging puddings. Directly below the drill head was a huge white lake surrounding a small orange island formed from the debris from the borehole and what was left of the agent orange. Ooblipimux had retreated rather than take more damage. It circled the little island, giving it lots of room.

The cavern was immense. At least a thousand feet to the far side and three hundred feet from ceiling to floor. It stretched into the distance in both directions. Milo signaled to be lowered further. He needed to be lower to see the ceiling; something about it looked odd.

From further down, it was obvious. A massive ridge ran lengthwise, supporting the ceiling. Evenly spaced along it, pairs of gigantic, curved supports ran across the ceiling and then down to the base of the cave. It was like a huge, gothic cathedral carved out of the rock. Or....

Milo looked again, trying to think of the huge supports in a different scale. He knew suddenly that no one had built this place. The hollowed-out area was inside the cavity formed by the spine and ribs of some gigantic, primordial creature. Between the ribs were bare rock and exposed ore. Milo saw several places that gleamed with the familiar sight of deep copper. This area would become one huge mine if the dwarves could get rid of the pudding.

One of the supports/ribs was about 30 feet from the edge of the borehole. Milo wanted to investigate it and see if it really was bone or just stone carved by some mad race of stone workers. He really should wait, give the Chief a full report, and wait to investigate until later. Instead, he dug in his pack for pitons, a hammer, and more rope.

He signaled to be pulled back up until he was about at the end of the borehole and even with the ceiling. He tied a safety rope securely to himself and to the bucket. A large stalactite was about 10 feet away. Milo leaped for it, his 10’ long tail of spectral bone wrapping around it and his clawed hands and feet trying to get ahold of the stone. The plan worked, and he was able to not fall while putting in a piton. If he could avoid it, he wanted to not test his safety rope. Now he just had to repeat the same leap twice more.

The next two were even harder. The last leap left him hanging by his tail below the stalactite. The ‘rib’ was only a few more feet. He swung back and forth like a pendulum until he could grab hold of the rough surface and scramble up to a small ledge between the curve of the bone and what looked like petrified scales above it.

The substance was certainly bone. Very old bone. And either he was shaking, or it was vibrating. The area Milo was laying on suddenly gave way, tumbling him into a hollow area of the structure. At first, it was dark, and then he began to see lights. Small yellow lights ran along the bone and clustered around him on the inside surface.

Not just lights…. runes. Each glowing bit was a rune. A few different ones repeated endlessly. They moved to where he was touching the bone and flowed from the rib and onto his skin, sinking in and burning. Like millions of little biting ants filling him up and eating into him.

Milo fell unconscious and began to dream.

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