Excerpt
ONE
At 06:30 a.m. Sunday, April 1, Guy Myll and Cheryl Vann, rode tandem astride the water company's specially modeled ATV maintenance unit. They were headed out beyond the irrigated fields and orchards across the dry roadless desert to where the town's water tower stood atop a natural rise in the flat terrain. Sixteen year olds, but with the capabilities and the know-how of adults, gained by serving in the towns part-time intern program, they had volunteered to inspect, report on, and repair a probable leak around the outlet flange near the bottom of the citys reserve water supply tank. At sunrise, the pump house gauge readings on the instrument board at the main plant in town had shown an unaccountable drop in the contents of the tank.
Hang on, Guy said over his shoulder to his partner seated behind him. He eased the machine off the pavement and felt Cheryl's arms tighten about the waistline of his Wrangler jeans. Against his back, he felt her softness through her white cotton tank-top that was little more than a halter. He realized they were dressed alike except his top was slightly longer on his body than hers. He gunned the engine, evaded the growing cacti and mesquite, and steered in a wide arc for the steel water tank. Cheryls long blonde hair, held in a pony tail, and covered with a baseball cap, raised off her neck and floated in the backwash of dry air convoluting past their bodies. Guy was hatless, his black short crew cut created no wind resistance. They both saw the wide split in the desert floor at the same time. Guy stopped the vehicle a short way from the edge of the new crevice. It was a single fissure as wide and long as a football field but with tapering ends.
Last nights quake must have done it, said Cheryl. It's like a miniature Grand Canyon. Be fun to explore. She threw a blue jean clad leg off behind her to dismount with intent to walk closer and examine the rim.
Sure would, agreed Guy, but first things first. Gotta check for that leak. Probably have some repairs to do, too.
Yeah, youre right. Cheryl remounted and hung on again as Guy twisted the handlebar accelerator and turned the ATV away from the crevice toward the tower.
Behind, and unseen by them, a very large six-legged creature pulled itself up over the rim of the new fissure and stood on the desert floor. Two long antennae protruded from its head and fingered the air as its red jaws dripped saliva onto the sand.
. . .
Earlier at 02:31 a.m. Sunday, the first day of April. The 2503 inhabitants of the small desert town of Fruitvale were jarred awake by a harder than usual earth rumble.
Aside from a few broken jars of pickles on the floor of the general store nothing seemed to be amiss. People living along the San Andreas fault line were not particularly upset. It was not unusual. An hour later, after all the home and business establishment lights, that had been turned on to inspect damage, were turned off again, the town took on its accustomed shrouded appearance; highlighted only by a night light here and there. Several mild after shocks followed but it was hard to tell these from the rumbles felt daily by the towns inhabitants. It was part of living on the fault line. The only concerned citizen in the whole town was Penrod Myll. He was the engineer for the water company and its sole paid full time employee. A CPA firm in distant Palm Springs did what little paperwork and bookkeeping were necessary. Hed checked the gauges in the pump house and they seemed to be behaving normally. No one had bothered to call in a leak in a water line. He made a mental note to have his son make a routine physical check in the morning and went back to bed.
. . .
It was hard work and it was hot work inside the bottom of the tank, but Guy didn't mind being there. He was lucky his dad was the water company engineer. He'd learned a lot from him, enough to do small jobs for the company on weekends and get paid. There might even be a full time job with the company after he graduated from high school next June. The towns population was growing and there was talk of hiring one more steady employee. His mind wandered to thoughts of college and his increasing desire to become an engineer connected to the new technologies encompassing computers, cyberspace, Internet and the coming era of nanotechnology. Hed finished reading K. Eric Drexlers book: Engines of Creation a few days ago and it was fresh in his mind. The fascination of what hed read had not left him yet. It was almost like yearning for a long awaited present at Christmas time. He pictured himself one day as an engineer himself in the field of creating artificial intelligence in machines. He chuckled to himself over the thoughts and mind-picture of a leaking valve, such as the one he was now working on, being able to repair itself. It may seem impossible, he thought to himself, but his own inexpensive desk computer could already repair certain breakdowns in its own mal-functions simply by himself typing a code into the keyboard. It was only one more step to having computers do their own physical repairs. He was anxious to know moredo more.
In the meantime, he liked the feeling of being helpful. It was good to get some practice working in the adult world. As dad said, Experience is a great teacher it enhances and compliments a college education.
He tossed his head, shaking a few drops of sweat from his face. His eye caught the image of Cheryl's form framed in the open hatchway twenty feet above. He grinned to himself. It was nice to have a helper, and a pretty one at that. She had already helped him drain the tank into a standby when they confirmed the leak around the flange gasket. She was good at this kind of work. He glanced at the Casio digital on his wrist. He had to have her back to town in time to take over her volunteer job at the churchs day care childrens nursery. Along with being doggone good company, Cheryl helped by passing down tools and parts. She had a good knowledge of machine tools and how to use them. He had the new gasket in place and the inside flange going back on when the short-range walkie-talkie by his side crackled with Cheryl's voice.
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