Tunnel Rat - Chapter 137: Tunnlemuggles
Chapter 137: Tunnlemuggles
After three hours of trading electronic components, fixing old video games, and eating two bowls of something called ‘dumplings’ Milo stood up and said he had to go. Five of Butch’s gang waved or patted him on the back, while Butch nodded at a girl called Yumi. She finished her food, stood up and fell in with Butch and Milo. Milo had grown used to having an escort. Butch explained that it kept everyone out of trouble. Milo on his own was too much of a target, and it was better if they didn’t tempt anyone into taking a swing at him. There was much speculation in the gang as to what would happen if someone did jump ‘the ghost’ again.
It had happened one time, recently. One of Butch’s little sisters came running and said she saw people picking on Ghost. A large older man had knocked Ghost down, demanding his fancy sunglasses. She’d ran to get help. Butch came running, but only found the older man on the ground clutching a broken leg, and his partner complaining about his nose, which was flattened on his face and gushing blood. Ghost was nowhere to be seen. He just shrugged when asked about it a month later. After that, Butch always made sure to give him an escort after their swap sessions.
Yumi was surprised when Butch turned into a hallway where the air handlers weren’t working any longer. The hall was fine, but the apartments were deathtraps with bad air and filled with garbage. Ghost reached up with one of his braces, knocked aside a loose ceiling panel, and then got a boost from Butch into the area above the ceiling. The panel slid back and Butch started walking back to the group. Yumi yelled after him. “What’s up? Where does he go?” Butch shrugged. “That little guy comes and goes. No one’s figured him out, or where he learned how to run the vents. But he’s damn good at fixing old games, and anything electronic, so who cares if he takes some weird route home to avoid getting jumped.” His tone told Yumi that she shouldn’t care either.
She took one more look at the ceiling, then hurried to catch up. She had her own problems. Butch knew some of them, but he never said a word. Sometimes having a group around you that knew to just be quiet about things was enough.
Milo thought of the strangeness of going to sleep exhausted in the game world, and waking up refreshed here. Now he was tired and entering the game again, where he’d be waking up to another day. He did this quite a bit. It let him get a lot more done, and minimized his downtime. He wondered if there was any downside to doing things that way? And how would you measure?
As Milo woke, a voice nearby coughed politely. The waiter? butler? who he’d seen at dinner and in the library was setting down a large wooden mug of tea and a loaf of fresh baked bread with butter and honey oozing from it. “The Professor felt that she may have kept you up late last night, and apologizes. She knows you have an early class at the arena. I took the liberty of preparing you food that you could take with you.”
Milo thanked him, grabbed the bread and tea and ran for the stairs. He wasn’t sure what time it was, but he had to be late. The stairways however were filled with students going to their first classes. He leaped onto the circular railing that spiraled to the ground and yelled. “Watch out, Professor coming through!” The jealous students, expressly forbidden from doing exactly what they saw Professor Milo doing, watched as he gained speed heading for the entrance. He managed to turn the headlong dive into a double summersault at the end, only spilling a few drops of tea. He emptied the mug, tossed it to a surprised first year, and ran off to the arena, eating the bread and honey along the way. He made it to the opening of class just in time and began to run the novices through stretches and basic stances.
Then he spent an hour of sparring with the better students and trying to teach basic stances and strikes to the novices and players. He was surprised how repetition of the basics was helping him. Claw fighting was becoming more and more natural to him with dodges, blocks and acrobatics starting to merge into a continuous way to fight. And hops. Some of Larry’s hops and steps were very useful. He was looking forward to working with Gilad and Larry, even though he still had bruises from the night before.
Breakfast was muffins with smiley faces. As the muffins came hot from the oven, Smiley and Rifkin labored to draw the faces with yellow icing. Rifkin seemed to struggle with it, while Smiley was using an icing tube in each hand and humming the Hamster Hop song. To go with the muffins were cheese omelets. Bleusnout was carefully giving one per person. When he saw Milo, he smiled broadly. “Ah, there you are. I have some good news for you.”
When there was a break in the line of hungry ratkin, the chef made sure nothing was going to burn and then took Milo aside. “I owe you an apology, Tallsqueak. When Larry growled at the twins yesterday, I was worried he was getting worse. And his new skill terrifies me. So, you can understand my worries when Gilad explained that you and he were teaching Larry to fight. I can only keep Larry here as long as he has no aggressive tendencies. Growling and chasing people makes that harder to do. But you won’t believe what he did this morning!”
“Perhaps you could tell me?”
“Of course. Of course. He turned down cheese!”
Milo had been prepared for any number of things. But not this. He was immediately worried. “But why? Is he sick?”
The chef smiled. “Larry came in early and I assumed it was because of the smell of cheese. He was drooling a little, but he told me he just wanted muffins! Can you believe it?! He said that cheese made him too crazy, and a crazy Larry doesn’t get to fight with his friends! Do you see?! He wants to fight more than he wants cheese! It’s a tremendous break though. I’ll be sending word of this to many other chefs if all goes well.”
Bleusnout filled a huge tray with muffins and one omelet before handing it to Milo. Milo reluctantly handed back the tasty egg dish, his hand slightly trembling. “If Larry isn’t eating cheese, I shouldn’t either. It’s not fair to taunt him with it. I’ll just have more muffins this morning.” He took the tray outside, along with a large jug of warm milk and two earthenware mugs. Larry was sitting there telling a story to Ringtail, Tweedle, and three smaller children.
“…and the flowers were so upset that they started to cry, and that made the bees sad. When Mr. Bear came for honey, the sad bees didn’t buzz around him like normal. Mr. Bear went to see Mr. Owl. The wise old owl flew and asked for help from Brinka, the Tunnlemuggle. Brinka knew someone who could help, and she went through her secret tunnel to Larry’s House. Larry said he would help, because he was a Hero, and Heroes always help, even though he was too big to fit in the little Tunnlemuggle Tunnel.
But Brinka knows a secret dance and taught it to Larry. Larry and the Weasel Slippers danced the magic dance and went to flower-land. Greggy Gurner and the Pickle Gang had all of Larry’s friends trapped in cages. Larry used stealth, like Heroes do when they need to get close to bad guys. Larry jumped out of the bushes and bopped Greggy Gurner on the head until Greggy didn’t get up again. All of the pickle boys cheered because they didn’t like Greggy either. Some ran away to be bad guys, but most of them said they would be good pickles, not sneaky pickles. Larry’s friends were happy and they had a big dinner with lots of food before Brinka helped Larry go home.”
Milo was impressed. Larry was getting a lot better at making up stories. He sat the big tray of muffins down, and poured himself and Larry some milk. “Muffins for heroes.”
Larry was very happy to see Tallsqueak. He had a lot to tell him. He told him about his new friends Tweedle and Ringtail, and how they were not-sneaky guys now. And he told him the entire story again about Larry saving Flower-land. “But Larry is very tired today. Saving Flower-land made Larry miss sleepy time. Come wake Larry when it is Larry’s turn to fight.” Larry yawned and wandered off to his house for a nap. Milo suspected that Larry had stayed up all night dancing, yet again. He was gaining ranks so fast! The endurance of a cheese fiend was frightening.
Ringtail and Tweedle turned to Tallsqueak.
“Grandfather sent us.”
“You have a secret mission?”
“Well, kind of secret.”
“Hard to keep a secret once you tell Char.”
“She mumbles when mad.”
“And always mad.”
“She won’t make friends with Larry.”
“Probably best…
“We made friends with Larry.”
“And aren’t friends with Charchar.”
“Big improvement in friend quality.”
“And we are scouts now!”
“No surprise! We promise.”
Both twins crossed their hearts and nodded. Milo looked at the two of them. “Scouts? What is the difference between Scouts and Shadow Skulkers are they the same clan?”
“Oh, easy…but not.”
“We blame love!”
“And dwindling population from Spider Wars.”
“Sneaky Clan Married Healer Clan.”
“Healer Clan married brave scout.”
“Some scouts thought sneaky girls were cute!”
“Lots of marriage and kids, and three clans living together.”
“Then more spiders.”
“Less people, lots of jobs.”
“Grandfather is best healer…”
“Also has to be best sneaky guy, and bravest scout!”
“Great-Uncle was Scoutmaster, maybe Deathmaster, not here now.”
“Grandfather does it all, makes him prickly.”
“Never know who we are talking to.”
“Scouts explore, kill monsters, make maps.”
“Sneaky guys, explore, kill things that need killing, find secrets.”
Untangling the words of the twins, Milo suddenly had a few things click into place.
“So, correct me if I’m wrong on any of this. Your great-uncle was the Scoutmaster and had a special ring. He went missing. He shared duties of Deathmaster with his brother, Old Healer. Now your grandfather is all three, and Char wants to be Deathmaster and train the Shadow Skulkers.”
The twins nodded. Milo showed them his ring. Four eyes in two heads got very large.
“I have a class to teach. Go get dressed for a scouting mission and meet me here a bell before dinner.” Milo got up and headed to the Tower of Strife. The twins sat silently for a moment, then began talking in hushed tones.
“Things get clearer…”
“But more confusing!”
“Head hurts…Tallsqueak is Scoutmaster?”
“Secret scout mission makes more sense.”
“Good thing we are scouts!”
“Does Char know?”
“NO! Would be frothing at mouth.”
“So much frothing.”
“Things looking up for scout clan!”
“Much room in new organization.”
“We are smart.”
“In our humble way.”
“Quick, must prepare for mission.”
“What do scouts wear?”
“Something with pockets.”