Making the Best, continued
Dec. 5th, 2005 02:47 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
avevale_intelligencerSome people might have just leapt into the Linking Book willy-nilly, but not yer umble idiot. Clearly the people of Channelwood were alive and well and living in another Age, equally clearly they were in the habit of nipping back here to keep the god-village stocked up, and clearest of all, if they linked into a room full of water they wouldn't be too happy about it. I knew I had to get that tap turned off and make sure it stayed off. I went back up the passage and assaulted the trapdoor for several minutes before my brain groaned into life and I started looking for hidden catches.
It was about a quarter of an hour later that I accidentally sagged against the rope ladder and the trapdoor came down and caught me on the back of the head, occasioning a certain amount of rather unimaginative swearing. Put weight on the ladder and the trap opens. Neat. I climbed up and turned off the tap, and for good measure disconnected the hose. Then I went back down and watched the water level for long enough to be certain that it was draining, just a lot slower than it filled.
The question of the person who looked like me was one I wasn't prepared to deal with just at present, so I concentrated on the problem of the water. From the look of things, Atrus had driven the end of his pipework into the stone beneath the swamp, possibly to avoid disturbing the indigenous wildlife with artificial currents or something equally worthy. At some time in those intervening two hundred years, through erosion or seismic action or sheer perversity, the bedrock had developed a fault. So, instead of seeping into the water table, the water started pouring into these people's book room, or did when I bumbled in and started turning on taps all over the place.
There were several outflow points. If I could work out which one was causing the trouble, I might still be able to use the system to a limited extent. I went back up top and tried to gauge the direction of the passage as it related to the maze of pipes and pathways across the water, but without much success. Of course, if I turned the tap back on I could follow the sound of the water...
I went back to the chamber, which by now was nearly empty, and investigated the floor. There were several narrow slots round the base of the dais, most of which were partially blocked with limescale. Of course... I thought, and then, no, hang on. Was this place supposed to fill with water?
Anyway, I had my answer, and a handy knife about my person, so I set to and scraped. Within a very short time I had widened all the slots considerably. I was just finishing off, on my hands and knees with my face near the ground and certain other features in the air, when there was a LLLLLLLLLLINKKKKK sound and something sharp poked me in a place I'd rather not indicate too precisely...
It was about a quarter of an hour later that I accidentally sagged against the rope ladder and the trapdoor came down and caught me on the back of the head, occasioning a certain amount of rather unimaginative swearing. Put weight on the ladder and the trap opens. Neat. I climbed up and turned off the tap, and for good measure disconnected the hose. Then I went back down and watched the water level for long enough to be certain that it was draining, just a lot slower than it filled.
The question of the person who looked like me was one I wasn't prepared to deal with just at present, so I concentrated on the problem of the water. From the look of things, Atrus had driven the end of his pipework into the stone beneath the swamp, possibly to avoid disturbing the indigenous wildlife with artificial currents or something equally worthy. At some time in those intervening two hundred years, through erosion or seismic action or sheer perversity, the bedrock had developed a fault. So, instead of seeping into the water table, the water started pouring into these people's book room, or did when I bumbled in and started turning on taps all over the place.
There were several outflow points. If I could work out which one was causing the trouble, I might still be able to use the system to a limited extent. I went back up top and tried to gauge the direction of the passage as it related to the maze of pipes and pathways across the water, but without much success. Of course, if I turned the tap back on I could follow the sound of the water...
I went back to the chamber, which by now was nearly empty, and investigated the floor. There were several narrow slots round the base of the dais, most of which were partially blocked with limescale. Of course... I thought, and then, no, hang on. Was this place supposed to fill with water?
Anyway, I had my answer, and a handy knife about my person, so I set to and scraped. Within a very short time I had widened all the slots considerably. I was just finishing off, on my hands and knees with my face near the ground and certain other features in the air, when there was a LLLLLLLLLLINKKKKK sound and something sharp poked me in a place I'd rather not indicate too precisely...