Corrupt Life Spring

The fire rain came again last night, driving holes in the already pitted metal over our heads. Cossa and Sandry caught some splash drops with their faces and woke with permanent tears. Fire rain burned but everyone in our holding catches what they can to take to Rolldab and his chemtex. At Rolldab's Plant, they will return half of what you bring as drinkable water. It's never enough.

It was my turn to carry the collected fire rain to the plant, buckets balanced on the bar across my shoulders. Lids too big for the buckets were twisted, dying. Soon they'd have to be replaced again. Metal was plentiful but none of it was very strong. It had been beaten down by time and the elements but it was still there, slowly breaking down.

Going the day after a fire rain was treacherous. Puddles collected in dips and holes. A misstep meant that they would eat your foot. The thorn vines that slept in the sun, cooked to frailness, grew strong and writhed after the fire rain.

Ahead, a line was forming at the Plant's gate.