Garbage World by Charles Platt

Author:Charles Platt [PLATT, CHARLES]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Orion Publishing Group
Published: 2020-12-31T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER NINE

The Yellow Rain

“Don’t like the looks of it,” Gaylord said. “It ain’t often that I’ve seen rain. Once a year, maybe.”

One of the nomads shook his head. “Tenday,” he said emphatically. He pointed at the sky and grimaced. “Each tenday. Shelter home in house.”

“It’s quite possible that it rains more often here,” Juliette said. “Several times when I’ve been further out from the village than usual, I’ve seen storm clouds on the horizon. There’s no reason why it should be as dry as the village here.”

“It makes sense,” said Oliver. “The jungle would need a wet climate.”

Gaylord grunted. “Better take shelter right away. When it rains it ain’t funny. Not like natural rain. Not much water vapor, see. What happens is the cheapjack asteroids send down economy blimps. The plastic ain’t strong enough and it breaks up when it hits the air. The stuff’s shifting so fast when it comes out of the blimp it burns up or vaporizes. The vapor condenses into rain, get the idea? Garbage rain.”

As he finished speaking, the first drops spattered down around them. The sky was thick with heavy brown clouds. The nomads shivered and hunched together apprehensively under the leaves of one of the giant plants. Oliver joined them.

A raindrop landed on his hand. It was thick and viscous, a sickly yellow-brown color. Particles of dirt floated inside the amber liquid. It trickled slowly over his skin like foul-smelling syrup.

The rain became heavier. Massive drops started punching clean through the roof of leaves overhead. Gaylord and Juliette followed Oliver further into the jungle. Soon the roar of rain pouring down onto the vegetation sounded from all around.

“Never seen it heavy as this before,” Gaylord said. “Reckon we must only get a sprinkling in the village. The edge of a storm now and then.”

A crash of thunder cut off his last words. Forked lightning flickered across the dark sky. Seen through the mist and rain, the flash was vivid crimson.

The earth shuddered and subsided under them. Rain was trickling into the loose soil and the layers of waste were settling. The tremors got larger until the ground was subsiding several inches at a time. The forest shook and giant plants toppled, smashing into others and bringing them down as well. The noise of the storm was deafening; the thunder and the roaring rain drowned out conversation.

It was obvious why the nomads had wanted to wait an extra day. With a storm as violent as this it made sense to stay home under cover. Oliver hunched closer to the thick, white stem of the plant he was sheltering under. The rain was getting still heavier, an impenetrable yellow curtain cutting visibility to a few yards. The vegetation was being beaten flat onto the shuddering ground.

Then a new noise shrieked through above the violence of the storm. From the sky came the hissing scream of a blimp coming down.

Gaylord squinted upward. “All we needed. An impact. Sounds like it’s heading this way …” Lightning flashed and thunder boomed again.

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