Journey to the Heart of Luna - Andy Frankham-Allen [38]
“Perhaps not,” he said, looking back at Professor Stone. “But it does go some way to explain why the stench will, indeed, never cease. You are just going to have to develop a nose for it.”
Professor Stone’s nose wrinkled in disgust. “I find that hard to accept, Captain.”
“Nonetheless we are stuck with it.”
Professor Stone and he continued on in silence for a short while, Ainsworth behind them, lamp in one hand and rifle at the ready in the other. So far they had seen little of interest. They had walked a short distance, leaving the Sovereign to stand guard at the entrance to the tunnel while the team in the cutter went to investigate the bottom of the gorge. Stalactites hung from the ceiling of the tunnel, some extending further than others, the longest of which had caused the small team to duck several times on their short journey. Professor Stone reasoned that with the underground moisture evaporation, the subsequent vapours rose until they condensed on the ceiling. It was the talk of vapours that led Professor Stone to once again complain about the rank smell.
The walls themselves seemed to be covered in some kind of slime, nothing too viscous, but enough to warrant careful moderation in their progress.
“I suspect the slime is a composite of the water vapour, rock dust and this organic matter,” Professor Stone said, indicating the brown fungus-like substance on the closest wall. He painfully switched the lantern to his bandaged left hand, and tentatively reached out for the substance with his right. “Hmm, feels a little like a mushroom.”
“Albeit a slimy mushroom, Professor,” Folkard said, and reached past Stone to pull a section of the fungus off the wall. “I wonder what it tastes like.”
Professor Stone grabbed Folkard’s arm, to prevent him from placing the fungus in his mouth. “Captain, please! This could be deadly to humans. We know nothing of the constitution of these moon men.”
“Perhaps not, Professor, but the Russians have spent some time on Luna, and there has to come a moment where they’d need to find a native food source.” With that he pulled his arm away from the professor and deposited the fungus in his mouth. “Besides which,” he said, as he began to chew, “this is not the first alien plant I have tried over the years. You soon build up a strong constitution through these things.”
Professor Stone regarded him for a moment, then nodded. “You are quite right, Captain, and it is time I joined this adventure wholeheartedly.” So saying the professor grabbed a handful of the fungus and placed it in his own mouth.
“Smashing show, Professor!”
The two men ate in silence for a moment, while Ainsworth continued ahead slightly. The fungus was very sweet, almost as sweet as the grapes Folkard had once tasted in the jungles of Venus.
“What do you think, Professor?”
“Quite palatable. Although the aftertaste; it is rather like biting one’s own tongue.”
“Yes. Rich in iron, maybe?”
“A very real possibility.”
Folkard nodded. “Then we at least will not starve as we look for Doctor Grant and his team.”
Once more in silence they continued on. The only sound accompanying them was that of the gravel crunching beneath their boots and constant echo of water dripping in the distance.
Silently, from the shadows behind them, a tarsal claw moved.
4.
“OVER THERE!” Miller said, pointing. Stevenson looked. Sure enough there was a hole in the wall of the basin, a good thirty feet away. They had surely been off the ship for almost an hour now, but fortunately they were making good time with their progress across the lunar surface. The low gravity was working to their favour, which was even more of an advantage considering the extra weight that Stevenson was now carrying. Miss Somerset almost weighed nothing now, and crossing the remaining thirty feet would take no time at all. Due to the unexpected lightness