🙋‍♀️ Chapter 2: Into the Echo, 🐀 Rat Gang Crew, Synthia's Not Normal Read by Scarlett

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Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:00):
Chapter two. Into the echo. The tunnel got narrower the
deeper they went. Pipes hissed and clicked above their heads
like a nervous audience. Let me go in front, said Cynthia.
I can hear better there. Scarlet, who was usually ahead
of others due to bravery and a teeny bit of

(00:20):
older sister bossiness, nodded and stepped back. After all, Cynthia
had skills and she was the biggest. Also, Scarlet really
liked sin and hoped they would be Bessy's one day soon.
Leading the way now, Torch angled downward to catch every
tiny shift in the ground. Cynthia held her breath so

(00:41):
she could listen even harder. It's definitely louder, Ivy whispered,
holding her glasses so they wouldn't slip off, and checking
her equipment signal amplitude has escalated by a minimum threshold
of forty percent, indicating a significant surge in waveform energy
across the train tans mission fields since the junction. I

(01:03):
never understand the mass stuff, Scarlet muttered, Ducking under a
dripping valve, I do, said Cynthia. It means we're close
at last, trudged behind them, carrying what could only be
described as a ridiculous picnic. If this robot thing's hungry,
I've got three sandwiches and half a fruit wiggler. It does, indeed,

(01:26):
said Cynthia. Oh no worries. I am pretty peckish myself,
but it might hear us. Everyone froze. Then Omiy dropped
her spammer with a clang. Boops. She whispered. Sorry. Cynthia
turned and stared at the wall. There again that thrum,

(01:50):
but now it pulsed in patterns like a cold. Everyone quiet,
She said, count with me. They waited silence, then thrum, thrum, thrum, thrum.
Atlas frowned. That's music sort off, said Cynthia. Ere is twitching.

(02:14):
It's a loop, but not made by rats. Something's trying
to signal or practice. Amilly tilted her head. Practice what language,
said Cynthia. They kept moving deeper into the under rails
where the old tram wires used to buzz. I've you

(02:36):
checked a crumpled map. Next hatch is labeled three Z
abandoned maintenance hub could be the origin. Scarlet nodded and
opened her wide eyes even wider. They were getting to
the exciting bit. Then we crack it open, she said,
trying to play things down. Just another day in your troplus.

(02:59):
They reached the rusted hatch. Ivy fumbled with the bolt,
while Atlas stood ready with a plank of what he'd
found somewhere. Omily withheld a squeal. She was worried about
getting he knew yellow dress dirty three two. Scarlet counted one.
The hatch groaned open with a moan that made Omily gasp,

(03:21):
and Atlas dropped the plank. Inside was a wide metal chamber.
A giant screen flickered in the dark, coated in a
fine layer of dust. Wires like vines snaked across the ceiling.
In the center sat a chair, and in the chair
something slumped. Cynthia stepped forward, heart thudding. That's not a rat.

(03:46):
The figure lifted its head. It had the shape of
a rat, vaguely, but its eyes glowed with static, and
its limbs moved with stiff, unnatural grace. Welcome, it said,
in a voice like a broken speaker. You have reached
the relay. Are you rack gang? Everyone stared, we might be,

(04:09):
Scarlet said cautiously, who are you? The thing flickered? I
am repeater Protocol Unit nine c My primary function is
to listen. I have been listening for one thousand, two
hundred and nineteen days until the sequence was detected. Cynthia

(04:32):
felt goose bumps under her fur. You heard the city change,
I heard you, said Repeter, and I remembered initiating contact
updating allies. All I yes, whispered Ivy, what does it
mean friends? It thinks we are friends, Scarlet whispered as

(04:57):
the crew hauled hand and looked on in amazement. Alarning,
said repeater, Allies danger alerting Help. Then the room hummed
with a new frequency, low, long, and filled with something else,
something desperate, and a sadness so powerful that vibrated the
very ground beneath their toes. To be continued copyright twenty

(05:22):
twenty five, Sarnia de la Maire