The high-frequency ring from Blabs does not just drive the dogs off, it seems to scrub the very air of sound. Ambris lowers her binoculars. She checks the seal on her gauntlet as the shimmering yellow haze ripples across the ruins. She scoots away from her partner a little, both sitting atop the dumpster.
Tollson sits cross-legged while happily shoveling the remaining beans into his mouth. The beans are half-liquified from the heat of the welding torch Ambris used to seal the tin back up after her own meal. Tollson does not seem to care about the texture. He scrapes the bottom of the rusted can with a makeshift spoon.
"The seal held well then," Ambris says. Her voice is clear through the internal comms of the suits.
Tollson swallows and a smudge of bean juice sits on his chin. "It worked perfectly, Amz. Maria says the extra heat probably killed off any remaining pre-fall bacteria anyway."
Maria chimes in, sounding like a Spanish romance novel. "A sterilized meal is a happy meal, mi amor. Your digestive tract is a temple."
Ambris rolls her eyes behind her visor. She raises the binoculars again and scans the path they took two days ago. Two shapes break through the heat shimmer. One is wide and silver while the other is small and struggling.
"They're coming," Ambris mutters. "Aaand they have a crate?"
Tollson scrambles to his feet and drops the bean tin. He squints at the horizon. Suddenly he lets out a sharp and wet snort. He begins to giggle as the dumpster lid groans under his weight.
"Oh... oh man," Tollson wheezes while doubling over.
"Stop it," Ambris warns. She does not even look at him. "Not one mean word in front of him. Got it? We need them focused."
"I'm, um, getting it all out now." Tollson wipes his eyes while still shaking with an internal chuckling. "But I think he got even bigger in the two days they've been gone. Is that even possible?"
Ambris shoots him a look that should melt the suit’s plating.
"Don't give me that look," Tollson pleads. His voice cracks with suppressed laughter. "Just look at his suit. It's bursting at the seams! How he can even move in that sausage covering is beyond me. He looks like a silver bratwurst with legs!"
Ambris elbows him hard in the gut and hops off of the garbage can. Tollson lets out an oof and the giggling finally dies down into a pained wheeze.
Wagner and Teena finally reach the base of the dumpster. With a synchronized groan they let the crate go. It hits the cracked asphalt with a heavy and hollow thud that echoes off the ruined buildings.
Wagner stands up straight. His breath comes in ragged and metallic gasps through his helmet. He is a massive young man and the IG suit is stretched taut across his chest and thighs. Every movement he makes is accompanied by the pained whine of servos trying to keep up with his bulk.
"Blabs. Connect us all" Ambris commands before anything is relayed.
Next to Wagner, Teena looks like a child playing dress up. She is so short and petite that her helmet seems to rest directly on her shoulders. It makes her look like a tiny, silver bobblehead.
"We found... artifacts," Wagner wheezes. He gestures to the crate. "From the... Old Days."
Ambris leans over and peers into the crate. Her brow furrows behind her visor.
Inside sits a chrome toaster with a frayed cord and a deflated leather soccer ball. There is a wound, plastic yo-yo and a half-opened pack of disposable diapers. Beneath those she spots a ceramic garden gnome with a chipped hat and a rusted metal egg timer. There is even a stack of old fashion magazines with water-damaged pages and a few plastic shower curtain rings.
"Wagner," Ambris says slowly. "What makes you think these are artifacts and not junk? Didn't you scan them and get your IG to explain them?"
Wagner looks at the toaster with genuine awe. "Only this one. Internal Guidance says it's a thermal bread induction unit. I have no idea what that means but it sounds important."
Wagner begins feeling around the smooth and armored waist of his suit. He looks over the toaster with certainty that he has found something of importance.
Teena is mesmerized by the yo-yo. She lets it dangle and watches the plastic disk spin aimlessly in the dead air. "This is a gravity-defying communication relay," Teena whispers. "Look at how it seeks the earth and then retreats. I feel like it's searching for a signal."
Tollson looks down at them and shakes his head. "You guys really need to spend more time in the archives and less time at the firing range."
Teena shrugs her shoulders. "We don't have the clearance you two have. So we make due with what we're cleared for." She continues trying to get the yo-yo to find a signal.
"How neither of you has figured out the suits can be more helpful in the two days away is slightly troubling." Ambris looks down to the box full of old, useless junk. "Watch this. Blabs, analyze the items in the box."
The green light goes back and forth a few times over the items. Wagner and Teena are in awe, wide-eyed and super curious.
Blabs chimes in, explaining everything the two lugged for miles.
"DIAPERS?! For babies?!" Teena gives Wagner a sharp look. "You said these were elbow and knee pads for the elderly. No wonder Tollson picks on you." She crosses her arms, unhappy with having to struggle so much while carrying the useless items.
Tollson looses it. He buckles over in laughter.
Ambris does not bother reprimanding Tollson. She shakes her head. "Blabs, tell me what the energy levels are of all four suits."
Beep. Beep. Beeeeep. Currently, Teena's suit is at 52% Tollson's suit is at 44%. Your suit is at 48.5%. Wagner's suit is at 31%. He seems to need more..."
"That will be enough, Blabs." Ambris knows everyone is understanding that Wagner being overweight is causing his suit to work overtime. There is no need for the IG to unknowingly rub it in.
While Ambris is contemplating the need to get back to Bluetopia, a disturbing set of noises catches them all off guard.
A dog yelping. Then another. Shouts begin to surface. Another yelp.
Ambris motions everyone to stay still. She walks the ten steps to the edge of the closest structure. She slowly peeks around the corner.
Two soldier formations are killing the dog pack. She rushes back to the others.
Panic paints her face. "Dad sent his men! They're killing those wild dogs!"