rendering it little more than a pool of mud.
Inexorably, the patch of clear water advanced towards shore annihilating the unidentifiable muck. Not pushed forward, but extended. As the sluggish lake met the bubbling barrier all contaminants disappeared and only impossibly pure water remained. The likes of which Humanity had not seen since dinosaurs trampled prehistoric Vikings taking a pee in a primordial stream.
Gradually coming into visibility, the bottom was an irregular expanse of rocks, and the occasional steam locomotive. Obviously its iron body was immune to the ravaging effects of the clean up.
Now in full operation, completely unleashed, and hungry as hell, the mutated microbes of Y.U.M. 123 tied tiny napkins about their throats and really went to lunch. Rapidly, the zone of clean water began spreading in every direction. Relentlessly it went into a true primordial feeding frenzy; the Y.U.M. ate everything not physiologically alive, thermally warm or chemically active in the abandoned lake.
Just then a gasping fish dove out of the mire and splashed happily into the cool blue. Amused, the observers smiled at each other. Life was indomitable. Even on Titan.
Filling half the sky, the ringed majesty of Saturn reflected like fresh diamonds off the sparkling lake within a lake. Unstoppable, the patch of shiny blue, heralded by its bubbling green cuff, raced off in every direction. In only minutes, the entire surface turned a beautiful deep azure blue. And the zone of visibility descended deeper and deeper into the murky lake with every passing second. Soon, more fish were exposed, along with a turtle and a very surprised looking octopus, which promptly swam away.
However, the surface color change did not stop as it reached the river feeding into the lake, and the grayish water of the contaminated tributary underwent the same incredible transformation as the microbes raced upriver, into a sewer pipe and out of the protective dome. The Y.U.M. had a lot to do in its remaining six hours, and every second of that was going to be spent feeding and breeding.
A soft wind blew over the sticky humans, and it did not make them cringe. It smelled faintly of air conditioning. But fresh was the operative word. Clean and fresh.
"Holy Buddha, Mary and Zeus, it worked," Erik Kaye whispered, the filthy microphone dangling limply in his hands.
Polishing his laser, Sergeant Zane suddenly stopped and snapped his fingers for attention. The anchor looked, gasped, smiled and then resumed his more formal stance of a news reporter. Ah, now they had some answers.
Although the water of the lake was perfectly clear, the center of Underdunk was too deep to see. But lining the shoals and along the shallow banks leading to the shore was a forest of underwater skeletons, their feet in tubs of concrete. Over in a sandbar was a collection of automobiles with more skeletons handcuffed to the steering wheels. There were stacks of letters, piles of knifes, and a small mountain of pistols. Everything was in remarkably good condition.
"And now we know why the project had secret enemies," Dr. Bentley announced, looking into the crystal clear expanse of the new water.
Near the bubbling locomotive on the bottom of the lake, resting on a bed of golden sand were boxes and file cabinets. Old and rusty but many, most, appeared still intact.
"Evidence," Kaye guessed out-loud for his unseen audience. "Most likely, organized crime has been using this place as dumping sight since time immemorial. Or at least since 2245 when the United Planets colonized Titan."
"And if this process works here, it'll work for anywhere. Even on Earth!"
"Or Choron," Rocky whispered. A clean Choron. Both of his brains boggled at the concept. What a wild notion. His children could actually go into either of the oceans and not explode. Wow.
"Honorable Dr. Bentley, old pal," the alien, began smoothly, retracting his eyestalks. "May I humbly ask for the formula of these amazing
Inexorably, the patch of clear water advanced towards shore annihilating the unidentifiable muck. Not pushed forward, but extended. As the sluggish lake met the bubbling barrier all contaminants disappeared and only impossibly pure water remained. The likes of which Humanity had not seen since dinosaurs trampled prehistoric Vikings taking a pee in a primordial stream.
Gradually coming into visibility, the bottom was an irregular expanse of rocks, and the occasional steam locomotive. Obviously its iron body was immune to the ravaging effects of the clean up.
Now in full operation, completely unleashed, and hungry as hell, the mutated microbes of Y.U.M. 123 tied tiny napkins about their throats and really went to lunch. Rapidly, the zone of clean water began spreading in every direction. Relentlessly it went into a true primordial feeding frenzy; the Y.U.M. ate everything not physiologically alive, thermally warm or chemically active in the abandoned lake.
Just then a gasping fish dove out of the mire and splashed happily into the cool blue. Amused, the observers smiled at each other. Life was indomitable. Even on Titan.
Filling half the sky, the ringed majesty of Saturn reflected like fresh diamonds off the sparkling lake within a lake. Unstoppable, the patch of shiny blue, heralded by its bubbling green cuff, raced off in every direction. In only minutes, the entire surface turned a beautiful deep azure blue. And the zone of visibility descended deeper and deeper into the murky lake with every passing second. Soon, more fish were exposed, along with a turtle and a very surprised looking octopus, which promptly swam away.
However, the surface color change did not stop as it reached the river feeding into the lake, and the grayish water of the contaminated tributary underwent the same incredible transformation as the microbes raced upriver, into a sewer pipe and out of the protective dome. The Y.U.M. had a lot to do in its remaining six hours, and every second of that was going to be spent feeding and breeding.
A soft wind blew over the sticky humans, and it did not make them cringe. It smelled faintly of air conditioning. But fresh was the operative word. Clean and fresh.
"Holy Buddha, Mary and Zeus, it worked," Erik Kaye whispered, the filthy microphone dangling limply in his hands.
Polishing his laser, Sergeant Zane suddenly stopped and snapped his fingers for attention. The anchor looked, gasped, smiled and then resumed his more formal stance of a news reporter. Ah, now they had some answers.
Although the water of the lake was perfectly clear, the center of Underdunk was too deep to see. But lining the shoals and along the shallow banks leading to the shore was a forest of underwater skeletons, their feet in tubs of concrete. Over in a sandbar was a collection of automobiles with more skeletons handcuffed to the steering wheels. There were stacks of letters, piles of knifes, and a small mountain of pistols. Everything was in remarkably good condition.
"And now we know why the project had secret enemies," Dr. Bentley announced, looking into the crystal clear expanse of the new water.
Near the bubbling locomotive on the bottom of the lake, resting on a bed of golden sand were boxes and file cabinets. Old and rusty but many, most, appeared still intact.
"Evidence," Kaye guessed out-loud for his unseen audience. "Most likely, organized crime has been using this place as dumping sight since time immemorial. Or at least since 2245 when the United Planets colonized Titan."
"And if this process works here, it'll work for anywhere. Even on Earth!"
"Or Choron," Rocky whispered. A clean Choron. Both of his brains boggled at the concept. What a wild notion. His children could actually go into either of the oceans and not explode. Wow.
"Honorable Dr. Bentley, old pal," the alien, began smoothly, retracting his eyestalks. "May I humbly ask for the formula of these amazing
Similar Books
