24 A Very Cruel Revenge (1/2)

Both the Ramseys and the Pendeltons stayed away from the New World after Gladys had been murdered over there. She was still in shock, back at home. Dave Ramsey had examined her and said she was fine in the physical sense.

She definitely wasn't fine in the psychological sense. She stayed in her bedroom, lying on the bed and staring into space with unseeing, vacant eyes. She had ordered Harry to remove the hiber beds from the room.

They had difficulty getting her to join them for meals, which were all cooked on the barbecue grill: its gas tank was nearly empty. This prompted Dave Ramsey and Harold Pendleton into making a trip downtown. They had no bicycles, but felt they could easily manage a long walk. The New World had forced their second selves into a lot of physical activity. Somehow, this seemed to have a beneficial effect on them, although all they did back on Earth was eat and sleep.

And so on the fourth day of the New Era, Dave and Harold took sponge baths (the water had stopped running), shaved, dressed in fresh clothes (shirts, cotton slacks, moccasin shoes), and set out for the center of Port Douglas. They intended to visit a police station first, to file charges against the renters from the house at the end of of their street.

They also intended to find out as much as they could - from the police, from town officials, from anyone they encountered.

”Basically, we have no idea of what's going on,” Dave Ramsey had said. ”It's been remarkably quiet here. I would have thought that at the very least a policeman or someone would have come around. To see whether we were safe and sound, if nothing else. But no one did. It's outrageous, really.”

”We've been spending most of our time in the New World,” Harry Pendelton pointed out. ”We basically slept eighteen hours a day. Maybe someone did come around.”

'Well, we'll find out, won't we.”

It was a long walk to the police station, and on the way they passed by the Sheraton resort located between the road and the beach. They saw two policemen posted at the turnoff to the hotel. The cops wore helmets and flak jackets and held rifles.

It was a shock. Port Douglas police work consisted largely of dealing with drunk holidaymakers who had pushed their fun too far. It didn't require helmets, flak jackets, rifles. Dave and Harold agreed they should ask a few questions.

As they approached, the cops tensed visibly. This wasn't good. When cops became stressed out by a pair of old men in summer clothes, things were bound to be bad.

They were. The rifles were pointed at them, and they had to show their IDs before even coming close. Luckily, one of the cops knew Dave Ramsey personally. They had met at a function of some sort.

He told them things were tense at the Sheraton. Over a thousand people were without electricity, without water, and shortly would also be out of food. They had originally come there to party, to have a holiday. Moods were ugly. A cop had to bicycle down all the way to Cairns to ask for reinforcements.

Yes, as far as they knew, power was out everywhere. Most likely a nation-wide outage. Attempts to restore power had been unsuccessful. They were waiting for orders. For now, they just were to keep the lid on trouble, and they were short of men. The police chief in Cairns had only sent a couple of constables after a lot of bitching: he had troubles of his own. Supposedly, an army engineer unit was on the way.

Harold thought about telling the cops about the cube in his back yard, but he did not. They seemed to have a lot on their plates as it were.

The cop advised Harold and Dave to go back where they came from. There had been muggings and a few street fights downtown.

”As long as you have water to drink and food to eat, stay put,” the cop advised them. ”This can't go on forever. Something will have to change. Stay at home and stay safe.”

They took his advice, but only its first part. Before they had even reached the house, Harry said:

”You know, Dave, I feel like borrowing that shotgun of yours and paying those people a visit... You know who I mean.”

”Yes. That renter scum. Well, I've been thinking about that.”

”Oh yes?”

”Yes. You see, I don't think they can be prosecuted. Gladys is very much alive, if shaken. She'd only been killed in that other, new world. And anyway I don't think we can apply our laws here to whatever happens over there. It's a different reality.”

”Different is right.”

”So, I've been thinking how we can avenge Gladys in this new world. I think I have an idea.”

”Oh really? What - ”

”Shush. We're nearly home. We want to keep the girls out of this, at least for now. I'll talk to Susan, and tell her what we have learned. You might want to look in on Gladys. Then we'll get together for a chat, and I'll tell you what I have in mind.”

What Dave Ramsey had in mind was so cruel that it left Harold open-mouthed.

Killing the renters - they'd both taken to calling them that - wasn't enough, said Dave. They'd simply give themselves new implants and come looking for revenge.

”We have to give them a good scare as well,” Dave said. ”A scare they'll never forget. A king-sized package of heebie-jeebies they'll carry around for a long, long time.”

He explained to Harold that he'd found a couple of very useful plants in the New World. Both were highly toxic. When combined, they caused a long and very unpleasant delirium prior to a very painful death.

Both plants existed in the old world, on Earth. However, even the most die-hard drug addicts steered clear of them. The consequences of getting high were too unpleasant.

”Now there's a question of how to tackle them,” Dave said. ”We don't stand a chance in hand-to-hand. There are three of them and the girl and there are two of us. And we're well past our 'best before' date.”

He glanced at Harold. Harold nodded, sadly. He admired Dave's diplomacy: Dave was basically saying they were a pair of old, weak farts.

”But we are better than them,” Dave said, ”Because we are better up here.” He tapped the side of his head. Then he laid out his plan in detail.

He wanted to lay in an ambush. There was one spot the renters visited regularly. That was the bed of clams and the nearby rocks that sometimes yielded a pinch or two of salt. The rocks ran in a line from the cliffs lining that stretch of beach, and reached far into the water.

And there was just one route to take when getting across that line of rocks. It involved a sequence of specific rocks that had to be climbed and jumped off, and climbed again. The only alternative was to swim far out into the sea, and around them.

Dave didn't think the renters would do that. He proposed using his own wife Susan as bait. He'd send her to gather clams from the clam colonies that had formed around the rocks were in the water.

Sooner or later, the renters would come along. They needed to eat and needed salt just like everyone else. When Susan started running, they were sure to give chase.

They would get across the line of rocks as fast as they could. They would climb specific rocks and jump off them onto specific spots. Dave Ramsey wanted to make those landing spots lethal.

He proposed to turn them into minefields by littering them with concealed thorns, bone shards, even sharp stones - all coated with a paste he'd make out of the two toxic plants.

”It'll start working within seconds, paralyzing the wounded foot and leg,” he said. ”Then things will get steadily worse. They will be shitting themselves with fear, and screaming with pain. They won't be able to move. Eventually, they'll die.”

”What if a couple manage to make it through unscathed?”

Dave shook his head.

”Through a couple of hundred thorns scattered in all the right places? I don't think so. But if one or two do get across, we'll have spears. With the sharp end painted with the paste. That will fix them.”

Harold nodded slowly.