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A Balloonie's Tale

Nobody really knows how it all started, but we certainly know how it ended. The old adage of the world ending not with a bang but a whimper couldn't have been more wrong. The world ended with a bang alright, several of them. Things are different now, but we'll go into that in a moment. Here we see the world as it was at its height, or at least the height according to some.

The year was 2053, and for the most part things were going just fine for the fine people of Earth. Many different sentients called the place home, and covered its live bearing shores from one point to the other, including some brave settlers at the poles. Peace was the norm, technology was on a continual upswing, and populations continued to boom. From foxes to bears, lizards to avians, and even the occasional sea critter gone to land, everyone seemed pretty happy with one another.

Old hates still existed however, some going as far back as the second world war, some going back thousands of years. One faction distrusted the other for some reason known only to legend. Some race didn't like another species for some silly reason likely going back to the pre-sentience days when all were mindless beasts simply preying on anything that moved.

Like most wars, this one didn't start out as an all out engagement. The North American Union had repeatedly issued strongly worded letters against the United Nations of Pacifica and its allies around the Asiatic seas, for repeated invasions of the old nations of Russia and parts of Europe. For years populations had continued to swell, and all too rapidly there were suddenly too many mouth's to feed. Nations to the north and east had more resources than they could use, and where trade failed military might sought to succeed.

First it was just isolated incidents and raids on resource storage units, but soon it had bloomed into a full scale war on both sides. Europe, Asia, and Africa were soon entangled in harsh conflict that lasted for years, spilling out into South America as nations picked sides and fought over scraps. The NAU tried to stay out of it, but as the war crossed the globe, they really didn't have much of a choice in the matter. Siding with the nations of the European Union, they entered the fray with a surprise attack on mainland China. This was met with heavy resistance, and retaliatory strikes on the western coast of NAU borders.

The conflict rose for years, with no clear victor in sight. Nobody knows who pushed the button first, but soon ICBM's were exploding all over the globe, delivering their deadly payload of nuclear fire to places of infrastructure, cities, waterworks, and everything in between. It was fortunate for some that there was some method of survival.

As unlikely as the incident may have seemed, several years prior some bright boy invented a type of single occupant survival shelter, basically consisting of a telephone booth sized tube sticking out of the ground. Users would enter the unit, and be locked in suspended animation until the disaster was over. He had at first planned on this being a survival medium for bad natural disasters or the impact of an Asteroid, but was soon told by many to include war as a probable factor to consider.

So it was when great mushroom clouds started rising at the horizon, thousands retreated to these shelters and hoped for the best. All were equipped with radiation sensors to measure the fallout levels outside, and open again only after it was safe for biological life. There were of course not nearly enough for everyone, so dozens died trying to crawl into each pod, sometimes clawing one another to ribbons in their fear crazed panic.

Still, eventually the last pod closed tight and lowered itself into the earth, sealing over with a heavy shield of concrete and lead, hidden to the fires above. The explosions rocked the population centres and destroyed everything completely. Billions died, leaving only scattered survivors amidst the scorched earth and nuclear winter.

Over the next few years the war continued in its most basic fashion, the odd squad of soldiers shooting up the countryside taking whatever they could find to keep on living for another day. But after years of eating irradiated canned goods, everyone began to grow sick and die. Some managed to eek out a living in the odd green space that hadn't been completely wiped out, but even they eventually grew old and died, with no children to carry on their legacy.

And so the earth was wiped clean, left to start anew with nature at the helm once more. And nature can be a funny mistress at times, doing things most people wouldn't expect. Such was the case as years melted into decades, and the planet began to heal. Ruins of irradiated factories still stood here and there amongst the rubble, and there is where life began anew for this shattered planet.

Radiation worked its magic on the inorganic materials left behind in a large synthetics plant of all things, and life was born. Single celled organisms grew into being inside a vat of latex, and rapidly evolved into more complex forms of life. Cell colonies grew into microscopic life, followed by living rubber blobs which grew larger over time.

The life spread from tank to tank, mixing with raw materials not yet turned into liquid rubber and forming more of itself, before one day one of these synthetic creatures stopped swimming in the tanks and plopped out onto a rusting catwalk, and decided to undulate around curiously. Poking itself into this and that, it started to learn about the physical boundaries of this new world it found itself in. Machines were oozed through, tubes probed, containers opened, contents examined. Others joined in the fun, and soon these factory complexes were filled with tan coloured mounds of liquid rubber somehow holding a solid shape, moving this way and that.

On one such trip out of the holding tanks, a rubber blob found a storage room containing some of the products fresh off the production line at the time of the bombs, still in good shape thanks to their synthetic nature. They were inflatables of all shapes and sizes, filling the usual niche roles of sea life and random reptiles. The pool-toys were examined in detail by the gooey life, and they discovered that these inanimate air-filled forms were made of the same material as their little collective.

Through an unknown method of group communication, they decided that these forms were what they were destined to become, but for whatever reason they had not. Action was taken to correct this obvious flaw, and the goo-creatures took to trying to mimic the forms before them. Some succeeded, some failed, but eventually fairly passable living pool toys were flopping this way and that, doing their best to mimic the shapes and sizes presented to them.

This continued for years, more and more of the living rubber coming out of the tanks to take on solid form. Quickly they all discovered that being a rubber replica of a whale was all fine and good, but it was hard to get around with stubby rubber flippers. So they changed themselves via trial and error, soon turning flipper into leg and arm, plus paw and foot. It took decades, but gradually a race of living rubber life was beginning to take shape. They delighted in the use of the factory systems to produce more rubber goo to feed their growing population, plus compressed gas tanks to fill up newly formed living rubber bodies.

Over the years there grew to be so many, that they couldn't stay in the factory anymore. Rubble was cleared from doorways and windows, carefully, and the animate yet fragile synthetic beings wandered out into the abandoned world around them, looking for something fun to do.

Tribes were formed, and primitive language began again as an off shoot of English recovered from whatever media they could find. More than a century now after the bombs, there was already not much left of the civilization that came before them. Nature was hard at work cleaning up the mess of those other creatures, forests and grasslands taking over what used to be cities and farms. Mounds of rubble soon became dirt covered hillsides and grassy bumps in the landscape.

All the while the inflatables continued to grow and explore, sometimes literally with the former. All too often one newly formed critter would blow up too much during its first fill, and either become immensely distended or explode into a confetti of rubber. Sometimes they got themselves back together if they were young and supple enough, other times they did not. Thus these fragile creatures learned to be careful, as they as yet had no idea how to fix themselves.

On the whole there seemed to be 5 core breeds of inflatable life, with subtle differences within each race or clan. There were of course Orca Whales, Sharks, Alligators, Dinosaurs, and a small collection of Wolves. The rubber blobs had found far more of the former than the latter to emulate, so the population tended to favour that assortment of species in that order. The whales were on average 6-7 feet tall, and usually built fairly thick around the torso with rounded features and thick limbs. The sharks were of the same height, but usually built more skinny leaning towards what could be described as buff, if it were not just sculpted rubber.

The Alligators were anywhere from 5ft tall and hunched over, to 8ft tall standing straight and true. They were usually built quite broad about the shoulder, with mixed ample and flat bellies, plus big sculpted and patterned tails. The Dinosaurs were larger still, some reaching as high as 10ft in height, with huge proportions in all their features. The wolves however were smaller, usually no taller than 5-6 feet in height, and sometimes as short as 3-4 feet. They tended to be mildly pudgy but fairly lithe all over, with big smiles and bright eyes.

As time passed they found more factories with more life like their own, curiously matching up in species and development. It was like their synthetic based life all started at the same time in every rubber factory. As their understanding of themselves and language reached an average level of development, they decided it was time to start doing something other than just wandering around. Every time a strong gust of wind blew in, they would all get scattered randomly, and risked getting popped on a sharp tree branch.

So the tribes broke up and returned to the synthetics plants where they all came from, to get out of the weather so to speak. Bit by bit some bright young minds though it would be swell to build more structures like their beloved rubber factories, and set to work doing just that. At first crude buildings were all they could manage, but they learned via trial and error, and the occasional popped worker.

Civilization was given yet another chance on this great planet of ours, but this one was vastly different than all others that came before. Time continued to pass, things were built and torn down, society and its people evolved, and it seemed things were going to be alright this time around.

And this brings us to here and now, some centuries later...

Chapter 2: 2476

Over four centuries have passed by since the wars of the past practically destroyed all previously known life on Earth, and the planet is a very different place because of it. The land looks much the same, though things are warmer now, with more of a jungle like state to the vast majority of the planet. Over the centuries, ruins of cities and countries were reclaimed by nature, filled once again with chirping birds, the odd rodent, and other small simple life.

The great craters left by the largest of nuclear explosions have since become lakes, the radioactive fallout long since having washed away to the deepest parts of the ocean, and far into the earth itself. You might still find some dangerous places here and there, but they've become rare over the years. The weather is wild and rainy, filled with almost daily thunderstorms and monthly hurricanes near the equator, as the weather continues to change and become more primeval.

Smack dab in the middle of the main North-American jungle lies a curious sight, but one quite normal to the local life. A great transparent dome of what appears to be glass rises out of the giant trees and dense jungle foliage, rising a full 2 kilometres into the air at its apex. The massive dome gently dips down with its rounded form to cover a circular area of over 10 kilometres in diameter, with various ovoid portals dotted all around its perimeter.

Occasionally one might see brightly coloured individuals entering and exiting the portals to the Dome, but travel is light at the best of times. Inside is the primary city of the living balloon creatures, or Synths as they've come to call themselves. The city is laid out much like any other city, yet covered from the at times savage elements by the large dome above. Sunlight is let in constantly, but not too much thanks to clever tinting. Not that the inhabitants are worried about sunburn, they're more concerned with fading colours on their rubber bodies.

At the centre of the massive dome is a rather large open field, surrounded on all sides with a great ring of stadium seating. This is the centre for great feats of inflatable fun, from flat out expanding to various sports built up from experience with their rubbery bodies. Every month they hold great games here, the favourite being races of expansion. The three main games are a race to see how fast you can blow yourself up with manual pumps, how fast you can blow up a team-mate with the same, and a flat out team-on-team ballooning of one member, to see who can get the biggest before bursting. The record holder for the latter game holds a crowning achievement of puffing up to almost half the size of the great stadium grounds, over 400ft in diameter. With a thousand feet to work with from side to side, nobody thinks anyone will ever make it all the way to the top.

The Synths employ a different standard of living than what the previous fleshy folks of this world may have been used to. They have little need for most basic goods, so a happy home is one filled with many squeaky bodies, a few air pumps, and plenty of patch kits to go around. There isn't any formal form of currency, more of a socialist system where everyone is given what they need to get by, and those who contribute more to society get extra benefits.

All buildings save a few are made of the same material used in the great dome above, namely a rubbery plastic that sets into a rigid shape harder than most products previously known to the world. They employ a method of literally blowing bubbles of a shape and thickness required, then letting the shapes set before cutting out doors and the like. Tinting and paints can be used to provide privacy, and sections left clear act as windows. As such most of the buildings lean towards round shapes, or at least ovoid.

The one exception is the few buildings that resemble amusements of old, relics from the past and the early stages of the Synth society. Not long after they returned from tribal wanderings and set up shop again at the great rubber factories, they learned to use the machines and computer systems within. As such they gained access to all the patterns and blueprints for all the things those factories could make. One of the many things they produced on mass at first were bouncy castles.

They made for good homes, when properly tied down out of the wind. A rubbery creature could bounce around all day long, and still have a great place to relax and sleep when needed. Sleeping was something the creatures did very little of. At most one might catch a nap on a daily basis, or even go a few days before having a few hours of sleep. After they finished with crude villages and towns, they started to see a need for more room.

The weather had been getting more active over the years by that time, and more than a few Synths were suddenly picked up by violent winds, only to be found later burst against sharp tree branches or other foliage. Fortunately by this time they had started to learn how to fix themselves, once again by using the factory systems to produce classic patch kits. As they grew in numbers over the years, they also grew in intelligence, rapidly meeting if not exceeding the smarts of the fleshy creatures that ultimately led to their creation.

At first they tried making big sheets of synthetic material to tie between trees, making wind breaks and the like. Those worked for a while, but bad storms would cast around enough debris to tear holes in both the sheets and anyone unfortunate enough to be near them at the time. Fortunately for all many scouting parties had been wandering off in search of anything interesting over the years, and were always coming back with new tidbits of data, computer systems, and anything else they could carry. It was an amazing thing, but the light rubbery creatures could still carry quite a bit, usually several times their body weight.

So they continued to learn, both of the past history of this planet, but also their technological secrets. This led to new ideas, plus new understanding of the manufacturing process going into their beloved synthetics. This was what ultimately led to the creation of the great dome, and the other little buildings built within. Just over a century ago, the Synths finished clearing a great open space in the forest, partially aided by the fact it was already a great flat grassland. On one of the rare parts of the year where the winds were calm, they assembled a bubble-blowing team, and got to work. It took hours to inflate the huge half-sphere to the desired size, and still longer to make it even larger. Every Synth was a little expansion crazed, and it was no surprise the great dome wound up three times bigger than planned.

They waited and hoped that a sudden storm wouldn't pick up and ruin their efforts, and luck was on their side. The rubbery goo started to harden, and within a day it was thick enough to resist the forces of the wind. It took a few more days to completely set, and within a week the Synths were cutting large holes all across the rounded edge of the dome. The entry portals were built and blown up much the same way, with doors being made of solid sheets of the same rubbery plastic. The doors were opened and closed manually at first, but over the hundred years since their creation things have improved.

Now almost everything is automated in the Dome. A citizen needs only to approach a portal door, and a big monitor will activate connecting him to one of the few central operating monitors in the City Hall. Once the operator confirms that its a Citizen wanting in, they'll open the doors. This process was put in place to prevent wild animals from wandering in via fully automatic doors. As the Synths did not eat, and thus did not have food, any creature that wandered in would likely starve to death if not found.

In these modern times, life is quite easy for the Synths. Nearly all of them are the same creatures that first crawled out of the rubber vats some centuries before, proving that they apparently did not age. The population grew still more over the years after their birth, but eventually they ran out of sentient rubber. I this great dome, there lived over a million citizens. They were gathered up from all the far reaches of their continent, and every factory they could get their paws on.

Most of the population does not work, and instead spends their time entertaining, being entertained, and generally relaxing. Some further themselves and others by studying science and technology, while others make sure the various systems of their primary factory keep running smoothly. They built the dome to encompass the largest factory they'd ever found, which still provided them with a lot of the synthetic material they used on a daily basis. A few more of the Synths hold public office, having jobs such as the monitoring service for the portals, or data techs keeping public computer services up and running.

Most everyone else whom worked did so in the factory. There they mixed up new batches of chemicals to keep up a good supply of the "bubble-liquid" used in their constructions, patch kits, fresh rubber for entertainment and leisure activities, etc. A popular thing to obtain was large rubber balls, to play with in the big central stadium or other public fields.

Another caste of the labour force was always hard at work making sure the centuries old factory kept working, namely by going out into the wild searching for replacement parts from other ruins. Not many remain these days, so the spare parts are growing thin. They also strive to learn how to make things like this themselves, with materials and controls that a Synth can operate. It sometimes takes dozens of rubber creatures to move around heavy metal objects, so they have lighter constructions in mind. Still, they've yet to reach that field of development, so young is their culture.

The other domes are doing much the same, being built some years after the primary dome got going. About 20 years after the first one was built, a team of critters got together and decided to take a little trip. Large scale scouting parties were dispatched to the various corners of the world, to find anyone outside their own continent and help them develop more if they had not already.

The first new settlement built was in Europe, right in the middle near some industrial sites that used to be in Germany. A large dome was blown up there as well some years later, after enough of the wonder fluid was created in local factories. Next came a moderate sized dome in what used to be China, plus another one in Japan. One big dome went up in Australia as well, plus another in central South America. A few smaller ones can be found here and there on some islands with enough former industry, plus a few single building domes built in more remote areas for research and observation.

There may be more going up here and there, but usually the other Domes don't find out about it until its already built, and gets connected to their communication grid. As per the last attempted Census, there is perhaps 20 million Synths in the world. The numbers are merely what they know about, as most of them don't leave the Domes all that often, and any creatures of old that may have wandered off too far were of course not counted.

A growing problem can be seen in some of the Domes however, namely a lack of raw materials. The smaller communities ran out of chemicals at their factories some years ago, and had to borrow from the larger communities. These days research into recycling is being made, to melt down and re-cast old products no-longer used. The biggest use of raw rubber has to be the patch kits, as not a day goes by that a Synth doesn't blow up too big and burst. New kits are being researched as well, that are reusable and take less of everything to manufacture.

And that brings us to the modern days of Synth kind, days that are likely going to get more interesting as time goes on...

Chapter 3: Awakening.

Things had definitely changed since the nukes started dropping. A plain featured fox fellow stood around with a few dozen other furs, looking around with mixtures of shock and awe at the world they now found themselves in. The survival pods they'd been locked up in for so very long had finally decided it was safe to emerge, and popped out of the thick grassy loam. The pillars stood there with grass and debris atop them, exposing little bits of concrete and old structure below. They were near a hillside grown over a fallen building, and it was only luck that all of them emerged from their pods at all. It was a good thing the servo motors were made potent enough to move rubble.

They had only been up and awake for an hour or two now, and looking at their surroundings were left completely clueless at what to do next. Chronometers inside each pod had indicated the current date and time down to the last second. So, they at least all knew for sure that the world they left behind was gone for good. The occasional voice could be heard contemplating if stepping into the pod had been a good idea at all, as they were clearly all doomed anyways.

About that time linked visual emitters on several of the pods kicked in, and a ghostly recording was projected in mid air. Some of the gathered people remembered something about this on the daily adverts for this particular brand of survival pod, but others didn't know what to make of it. A friendly looking lizard in a well cut suit was soon chatting away about how they had all survived whatever disaster had happened, and now just needed to wait for their eventual rescue.

Many blank expressions met that particular announcement. Apparently the recording was semi interactive, because after a moments pause it started asking questions. Was the general area still intact? Was there any visible sign of civilization left? What was their situation? With shouted replies of no, nope, and buggered, the program changed tracks and started anew.

"We're sorry to hear that your situation is so grim, but fear not! Survive-Co has planned for every eventuality! At the base of all your pods you'll find a smaller sealed stasis chamber, filled with enough food and water to feed a normal adult for over one month. Every chamber with an odd number also contains a small measure of medical supplies, while the even ones contain our full on disaster kit."

The smiling face of the reptile turned serious, and he took a moment to collect his thought before continuing. Everyone present found the 400 year old broadcast slightly creepy.

"We realized the possibility that all life on earth could be wiped out by a major incident, so we planned for the worst while hoping for the best. Each disaster kit contains plans and directions for starting up old style dirt farms, as well as directions for building your own tools to maintain them. Space was at a premium in these pods, so there wasn't exactly room for tractors and plows. You very well may all be the last of our civilization, so its your duty to try and survive. Follow the directions, learn to feed yourselves, and hopefully in time you can get a proper society going once again."

The reptile seemed upset for a moment, before turning somber once more. Looking square at the camera, he nodded and took another breath.

"Good luck to you all."

With that, the recording shut down. A few seconds later, the lights and displays within the pods flickered and died, followed by the lower panels opening, and stasis fields within shutting down. Soon, all was quiet.

The silence was broken by everyone trying to talk at once, arguing and screaming randomly, some running around in circles or trying to get back in the pods. They were stuck here however, and there was really nothing they could do about it. Out of the random collection of individuals, some had enough sense to remember where they were and which direction led where, so they talked amongst themselves to get a plan going.

Once everyone had calmed down enough, the self appointed leaders laid out their ideas, and tried to set things in motion. Each survival kit was contained within a sturdy old style backpack the military used to flavor. It was clear that they would last a good while. Several bottles of water were ready at hand, plus a manual hand-pump filter system for cleaning up any other water sources they might find. The food was all in ration form, not the most tasty thing but definitely containing enough calories to keep you going for the day. The pods also had utility belts with a single sheath attached, each one containing a wickedly sharp military utility knife. Evidently the people at Survive-Co had done their homework, and thought of some good low-volume options to help out a survivor.

As the afternoon began to tilt towards evening, the somber party pointed themselves west towards what they hoped was still the great lakes, to make a new life for themselves around the once peaceful waters.

Several hundred Kilometres further west, and quite a few more to the south, various communication officers in the Great Dome noted the activation of the survival pods all across the continent. They appeared as random blips of energy on their scavenged scanning systems, plus white nose across their communication bands. None of them knew what to make of it all, nor did they really have any established protocol to do something about it. Soon the disturbances cleared up, so they merely noted it down and went back to watching the great games in the central arena.

A local rising star was going for the gold, so to speak. He was a big Dinosaur fellow of slightly above average size, towering over 11 feet in the air. He was quite burly too, possessing thick limbs and a long trunk like tail, complementing his inflated chest and slightly rounded belly. His hide was a dark shade of green all over, mottled here and there with lighter and darker patterns. He had been named some time after the Synth society started caring about such things, but had more recently adopted the monicker Hex. Some suspected this was due to some inside joke within his circle of friends, but nobody really knew for sure.

His team was quite good at what they did, namely expanding in the games. His event of choice was the all out ballooning challenge, where his entire team would labour to blow him up as big as possible. He'd been practising for years to get better at it, hoping to meet or beat the previously held records. His belly and sides bore many patch-marks from previous attempts gone too far, proof at least of his dedication to the event. They held one point for themselves out of the first two rounds, while the competing team held the other. Everything rested on the final team match, and Hex was in his element.

They had already hooked up his master valve to the primary hose, the former being located on the base of his tail. The main hose went down the field for quite a ways before branching off into several smaller hoses, each one connected to five large manual pumps. As each team was comprised of 6 members, this stood to reason. Hex looked out at the leading competitor, an almost gaunt looking shark almost half his size. He chuckled as he looked at the other fellows team mates, and realized they were likely going for broke as well.

Most teams followed an established procedure, namely pumping as hard and as fast as their rubbery bodies could, forcing the air from five pumps into their sixth team member. Thus they'd be getting him or her as big as possible, and as fast as possible. Through careful testing and much practice however, Hex and his team had managed to curb their normal desires to go nuts as well, and focused instead on steady measured pumps. This pushed a more even flow of air into Hex, and allowed his rubbery body more time to adjust to the increasing size and pressure. So far it had worked well in their practice sessions, and they hoped to wow the crowd with it tonight.

At a squeaky whistle from the judge, the teams set off with the predicted styles. The competing team was pumping wildly, each member going at different speeds and with mixed results, sending random bursts of air down the primary hose into the shark. He was swiftly enlarging in size, rounding out to more pudgy proportions as his hide swelled out all over. Hex and his team however were having different results. In their pattern they were pushing down upon their pumps one at a time, sending a near constant and even flow of air down the hose. Hex was rounding out a tad as well, growing taller and thicker by the moment seemingly at a steady pace.

The fans ate it up, cheering for the rising star and his team as they ate up the feet, swiftly enlarging to over 20ft tall each, a new foot adding itself to their air gorged frames every few seconds. Both Hex and the shark were clearly enjoying themselves, looks of bliss marking their squeaky features as they doubled again and again in size, stretching out steadily rounder as they grew taller. By the hundred foot mark the other team was showing signs of faltering in their attempts to blow up their teammate, slowing down compared to Hex and his team. Both of the blimp like balloon animals were looking quite rounded by now, sporting guts half the size of their bodies, while the rest of them continued to take on a more rounded configuration as well as still stretching up taller.

Hex was having the time of his life, as he always did while puffing up bigger. He rubbed at his squeaky frame seductively, purring to himself in increasing volume as he grew ever bigger. This might very well be the day he broke his own personal record, and broke the arena one too! Larger and wider both contenders expanded, passing 200 feet in height, and nearly that in width. The shark was putting on a lot more mass in his belly than Hex was, wobbling a little as he tumbled forwards onto his rounding dome of a belly, stretching out even bigger. The huge inflated Dinosaur was showing similar levels of bloat, but his tummy was still smaller than he was on the whole, so for now he still had his footing. The extra weight in his large tail likely helped in the matter.

At 256 feet the shark started to creak and groan ominously, the crowd responding with mixed ooo's and ahh's of excitement. They always loved seeing a good bursting, it not being the most common of things. There were only so many patch kits to go around after all! Hex looked both lusty and smug as he kept on ascending without any noises of stress, his belly still growing bigger as did his already comically bloated limbs, rubbing at his tummy with obvious pleasure much to the cheers of the stadium goers. Some seconds later the judge announced that it looked like the Shark would go at any minute, but still their team was pressing on for glory! The rubbery fellow squeaked and wobbled on his hugely distended belly more as the feet and pressure kept increasing, his hide turning semi transparent as it took all the air it could stand.

Moments later he burst with a loud bang, nearly knocking Hex off his feet from the sudden blast of escaping gasses. The Judge and score keepers marked on a big billboard a final size of 287 feet for the Shark, and all eyes turned to the exploded critter. His crumpled frame had a dazed expression for a moment before lapsing into temporary lifelessness, akin to going into a deep sleep. Cleaner crews went out and gathered up the no-longer stretched out rubber, all of it having rapidly snapped back into shape, all-be it with a big tear across the belly. A long thin patch was applied, and the Shark was left in the care of his team to heal and eventually be re-inflated to normal proportions.

That taken care of, everyone turned back to Hex as he just kept growing. He thrust a squeaky fist into the air with triumph as he passed his own personal milestone, over 300ft in height. He'd burst the last two times at 298, but hoped this time to calmly and steadily get even larger. It looked like their combined plan was working, as he stretched past 350 feet in height, and showed no signs of stopping.

By now his belly was as big as he was, and he stood there rocking against it hugging with his two incredibly distended arms. Purring loud enough for all to hear, he rolled himself forward onto his giant gut, and laid there hugging himself with arms, legs, and tail. The crowd approved, with much the hooting and hollering, plus squeaky cheers. Bigger and bigger he expanded, and a hush fell over all present as he neared the previous record holders mark. Even Hex avoided hugging his own massive frame at this point, worried that any extra pressure might make him explode.

The numbers crept up to 396, then 398, and finally up to 400. As 401 ticked by, the stands exploded with cheering, followed by a smaller sign flashing atop their scores "New Record!". Still his team laboured to add more air to his frame, seeking to not only break the record, but smash it entirely. Finally at 463 feet his own hide started to creak and complain from all the stretching, showing lighter colours here and there on his mottled green hide. A hush fell over everyone present as he started to look like he was going to explode. His features were starting to sink into dimples of his former limbs, head sunk into a great neck ring, while his tail become a big nub like stump.

Still his size increased however, passing 500ft and beyond. His body squeaked and groaned loudly at 524, then finally exploded violently at 526. The fans cheered and managed to avoid charging the field to congratulate the winning team in person. The 5 still on the field were tired after all, and likely wanted to tend to Hex first. The big Dino had burst quite impressively, his tummy and sides tearing into several large sheets of rubber that needed to be put back together with more than a few long sticky patch kits. It would be several hours before he was fit to be put back under pressure again, so his team took their crumpled comrade back to their waiting room, to rest and relax until he could join them and celebrate.

Fans of the winning team had a large public celebration that night, covering the streets and open spaces with a sea of rubbery forms. Everyone else joined in as well, if only to enjoy the squeaky fun with so many fellow balloons present. Everywhere you looked somebody was being blown up, hugged, thrown into a pile of other variable sized inflatables, and enjoyed by all. Some were even being deflated by sneaky Synths with clever fingers, holding their master valves open long enough to release their air, and crumple them down. This was of course done simply for the fun of blowing them back up again, usually to several times their initial proportions.

When all was said and done the available supply of patch kits and pumps was taxed to the limit, and several exploded party-goers had to wait upwards of a few days to finally get back together and under pressure once more. Nobody really seemed to mind however, as the time between popped and re-inflated passed instantly in their perceptions.

It was definitely a night to remember, and one that Hex certainly added to his list of personal accomplishments.

Chapter 4: Civilization.

It was some years later that scattered reports started to come in across the Synth communication system, about strange things being seen out in the jungles. Fast moving shadows, eyes peeking out of the darkness, and even the odd bout of smoke. Fire wasn't that much of a worry to anyone, as normally it was storming too hard to let a blaze get out of hand. Even if it didn't rain and storm for a few days, that generally wasn't long enough to let the jungle dry out and have a good burn. At least not this far north.

In general, the reports didn't worry anyone all that much. If anything, it got them all curious as to what might be going on out there. Could it be other lifeforms on the move? Perhaps some long-lost Synth's that finally found their way back to civilization? There was only one way to find out, and that was to go and have a look. So the various Domes began to assemble scouting parties and get them ready for all the could. Production ran full swing for weeks, making the supplies deemed essential for a long range trip...

Hundreds of kilometres away, a woodland community was coming along nicely on the banks of Lake Superior. Crude log cabins fortified with plaster dotted the southern banks of the large body of water, mixed in between trees topping a hundred feet in height. The huge forest protected the settlers from the worst of the winds coming from most directions, minus anything blowing in straight off the lake. As a result, most homes had angled banks built in their front yards, to try and curb the storms further.

Scantly clad furry folks of various races could be seen here and there, fishing in the lake, bailing water, and digging garden pits surrounded on all sides by wind-breaks. They were growing some form of dwarf wheat, stunted looking corn, various tubers and peppers, and other plants that looked like new versions of old favourites Mutation had done many odd things to the plants over the years, but fortunately they were all safe to eat. The storms had helped with mutation as well, and now only the most savage of weather posed any danger to the crops. The addition of wind-breaks around the well-drained pits in which they grew their crops further protected their investments.

There were many more critters here than the initial group that moved in so few years back, more survivors having made their way to the lakes from former major population centres Some had even come down from the Canadian side of the Lakes, having seen the smoke from so many campfires over the water. Life was improving for the lot, though not without cost.

If nothing else, it could be agreed that all present worked their fuzzy or scaly behinds off getting to where they were today. For the first few months it was nothing but living on the ground and eating whatever they could find in the jungle. It was strange having a tropical forest bordering the Great Lakes, but at least they had quite a lot of things to eat. After weeks of living off the land, several folks got together and decided it was high time to actually set up shop. There were grumbles of protest, as some still seemed to think they should just wait for a rescue.

Rescue of course never came. So over the years they built various forms of shelter, from communal long houses, to individual cabins and cottages. Those with previous talent for construction and engineering became craftsmen and masons, turning piles of rock and timber into stone foundations and wooden walls.

Most of the buildings were not in any way fancy, but they did the trick. It never got cold enough to really worry about the temperature, all they needed was protection from the all too frequent storms. They had only had successful crops going for a year now, but the long growing seasons made feeding themselves a varied diet easier than once thought. Fish from the lake and wild game from the Jungle increased their diet to happy levels, and in general nobody complained about how things "used to be" anymore. Three years of roughing it in the Jungle will do that to a person.

The leader of their little wilderness settlement was a lean fox by the name of Lucas. Like most of the villagers, all he wore was a simple loin-cloth to hide his danglies. It was too warm to bother with full clothing anyways, not that they had the cloth on hand to make anything new to begin with. Most of them had abandoned their city clothes within weeks of leaving their survival pods. Those that chose to remain fully clad soon lost their covers anyways, as months of wearing the same thing eventually wore them out to rags.

People were far more concerned with practical things now, so time and energy was being focused on building a grain mill and forge, rather than looms and spinning wheels. As with all large enough populations, they had a rather diverse collection of people with equally diverse skills. There were of course the builders and inventors, people educated in fields like construction and other trades. A few had worked in Hydroponic farms before, so they knew the basics of running a dirt farm.

There were however quite a few lesser use individuals. From business minded people who couldn't work a hammer or dig a trench, to the unemployed and even a few criminals. It was truly a random lot that survived the nuclear fire. The criminal element was dealt with in a timely enough manner. Those that decided to return to their previous way of life were left hanging in the Jungle, one after another. What few may have remained evidently reformed, because their little society had been peaceful for a good long while now.

The more business minded people did learn new trades however, and soon everyone was doing something of use. The town had a few doctors, they had skilled trades, they had farmers and fishers, hunters and gatherers. Plus, they had a few "Rangers" of sorts, those with prior military experience. They kept watch on the Jungle to keep any predators at bay, not that they'd seen any. It was almost as if all large animal life had been stripped bare off the planet all those centuries ago. The most vicious animal they'd found so far was an oversized Iguana with sharp teeth.

But it much preferred hunting small mice and other rodents, so both parties left the other alone. Still, the Rangers did make the townspeople feel better. Occasionally a few of them would go on patrol as well, walking away from town for days, trying to see if they could find anyone else. Even as far out as the closest major population centres, there was nothing. Indeed, barely any sign of their old world remained at this point. Once or twice they found barely exposed ruins which were combed over eagerly. All they found were damaged electronics, a few rusty tools, and a strange lingering scent of rubber.

The tools at least were well appreciated by the builders back in the village. With surface rust removed, a hammer or saw still worked rather well, even after all these years. On one of the many trips out to explore and scavenge, some Rangers came back with several bags full of charcoal and other useful things to burn. This pleased the masons working on the forge, as they might be able to get a hot enough flame to start re-casting scrap metal.

On one side of the village, their efforts could be seen plain as day. They had a simple stone forge with an old iron pot hanging above it, with a few trays standing ready to receive any melted metals. A large pile of scrap steel and copper was sitting just around their wind-break, ready for melting once they got a fire hot enough.

Thanks to the Charcoal, they managed to get a hot enough cauldron to start melting things down, casting them for now into simple ingots. After they made their first one, Mayor Lucas called a town meeting, and praised the efforts of the Forge team. A celebration and feast was held through the village that night, the sound of merrymaking echoing into the quiet skies all throughout the evening.

The following morning quite a distance off, a new scouting party was being deployed to survey the area, and check up on rumours of strange sights off in the Jungle. Their leader may have been a familiar sight to some, the former arena champion Hex. After breaking the records in the games time and time again, he'd gotten bored and decided to do more with his life. His stretching methods had been applied to the majority of Synths, and now everyone could bloat themselves up into squeaky giants. Some fared better than others at the practice, but that was the nature of things. After all, no two balloons were created equal.

All told he brought a small collection of fellow scouts along for the trip, and they travelled light. Each had a small waist-pack with a few patch kits within, as well as their usual assortment of scouting gear. Things like compact radios and compass equipment were rare indeed, so they kept very good care of the precious cargo. One member of the team also had a rare compressed air tank, one of the few still remaining with a full charge. They had built manual pumps over the years to try and charge them back up again, but they were lucky to get a 10% fill before they simply couldn't force more air in.

That combined with poor quality tanks, and centuries of use, had made their stockpile dwindle to nearly nothing. Their tank was for emergencies, or whatever quick need they could think of. It could be used to quickly blow up a deflated comrade, or anything else that their limited "lung power" could provide. They could pass air between their lips, but they didn't exactly have lungs, so the force was rather weak. As such, it took quite some time to blow up a deflated Synth, more if they were a large fellow like Hex.

Hex looked over his little group of fellow scouts, pleased that he'd have some familiar company on the trip. He'd worked with them before during his scouting training, and one of the members was an old friend from his days in the games. There was another inflatable lizard, smaller than Hex but still nearing the 8ft mark in height. They also had two Whales along for the ride, and a Shark. At first they had a sixth member on the team, namely a small wolf. But he was intimidated by all the other large inflatables, so he bowed out at the last minute. Hex shook his head at this, figuring a few good puffs of air would have fixed the little guy up just fine.

With all supplies packed and ready to go, the 5 Synth scouting party exited the far Eastern Portal, and walked calmly off into the Jungle. They would likely make good time, being able to walk without fatigue for the majority of the day, and into the night if they could see enough. After all, a Synth barely required any sleep.

On the first day the didn't encounter much of anything, other than a few chatty birds up in the high branches, and the odd flesh and blood reptile crawling around tree trunks and underbrush. Even the somewhat vicious oversized Iguanas that ran around didn't cause the Synths any trouble. They had long since learned that the strange squeaking figures were not food. A mouth-full of that tended to have explosive results for both parties.

At sunset that night they did some simple measurements and contacted home base on the radio, confirming that they'd managed to cover a good distance so far. The average flesh and blood critter covers 8 kilometres an hour at a steady walk, faster if they're jogging or running. The Synths kept up this pace as well, but they could do it for very long stretches without pause. Walking in the jungle was a different story, having to climb over roots, fallen trees, avoid storms, sharp things, etc. At best the Synths managed 5 kilometres per hour, and could only walk when it was light out. At night the canopy overhead was too dense to let in the light from moon and stars. So, they managed to get 50 kilometres out on the first day, and made camp.

Camp was a loose term, and the facilities at their disposal would be amusing to the untrained eye. One of the whales took off a large backpack from his squeaky frame, and placed it on the ground. Rolling out a bundle from within, they pulled a cord on one side, and stood back. A large inflatable tent of sorts quickly fwoomped up on the ground, which bore an uncanny resemblance to some kind of old style bouncy castle. Inside it most certainly looked like one, a big open area filled with soft inflated rubber to lay on.

The dark grey fabric bore many the patch from repeated use and accidental bursting, but it still worked. Once they'd tied it down to a few nearby trees, they all crawled in for the night. They spent most of the dark hours talking, randomly puffing one another up, cuddling, and generally enjoying all the delights a Synth is prone to doing. Eventually they did sleep, lost in the bliss of cuddly rubbery bodies close at hand. 2 blissful hours later, they were deflating the tent, and getting it all ready to go again. The tent really was a marvel, as it inflated itself mostly with spongy air pockets within. They simple squeezed them all flat and rolled it up tight to keep it uninflated. As thus, it used no precious compressed gas.

The team made a note to once again thank the creator of such a wonderful device. For days they walked, passing strange sights and making odd discoveries. Here and there were abandoned scraps of cloth, showing rot and signs of being out in the jungle for years. Once or twice they found sharp metal objects, of which they handled with care and generally decided to leave alone. After all, nobody likes to be accidentally popped. They figured they must be closing in on whatever had been giving off so many strange readings and reports back at home base. Another day or two and they'd reach what the maps said were giant bodies of water, so who knew what they'd find...

Chapter 5: Meetings.

It was morning when the scouts came running back into the lakeside town, which had only recently been named Fort Superior. People living there had finally come to terms with their situation, and realized that they were here to stay. So, what better way of officially putting down roots than giving your village a name?

The scouts reported movements from the west, large strange looking creatures advancing towards their village at an easy pace. They estimated their arrival within the day, or perhaps the next morning. The rangers were gathered up and set on watches, weary survivors not wanting to loose what little they now had after losing it all hundreds of years prior.

Tensions were quickly raised, as everyone built whatever improvised weapon they could, and prepared themselves for whatever they could think of.

They received something else entirely.

Still half a days walk from the Village, Hex and his team of scouts were growing annoyed with their progress, and all the hints of something being out here... All with no confirmed sighting. One of the whales complained that if the canopy wasn't so high, they might stand a better chance of seeing farther. After all, any other creatures out here surely had their own Dome, right? And you could see those things for kilometres!

The large saurian leader smiled at the idea of being able to see farther, then looked up to the dense overgrowth and was struck upon with an idea. Grinning like a child with a new toy, he fetched out their precious tank of air, and hooked it up via hose to a nozzle at the base of his tail. The team balked and asked just what he was doing, to which he pointed upwards with a grin.

"Don't you see? If we were large enough, we could just poke our heads through the canopy above, and see forever! Then we'd definitely spot anyone or anything in the area."

Some of the team was sceptical, but his former arena pal knew damn fine that if anyone could outgrow the Jungle, it was Hex. They agreed to let him try, but insisted he do it slowly so he didn't accidentally waste all the air by exploding himself on a tree branch. Soon they had the tank cracked open, and the big Dino stood there humming to himself and rubbing at his own hide, as he steadily grew larger all over.

He managed to hold his form pretty much within proportion, only getting slightly wider around the middle and rump as he swelled up one foot at a time. It took a small measure of time, but he ballooned up past a hundred feet in height, and started to reach the lower branches of the huge jungle trees above. Bit by bit he wormed his way through them, careful not to snag his rubbery skin on anything sharp. Several birds and even a few overgrown lizards were disturbed by his crashing upwards through their areal homes, but they did little other than run in fear.

At 200ft the huge balloon dinosaur pushed his head up through the leaves and smaller branches of the mighty trees, snapping many off as he went due to his sheer bulk. With the tank running low, he hoped he would get large enough to make use of his upward ascent. Finally with a great push of his now massive arms, he shoved the upper canopy cover out of his way, and looked up into the sky. It was sunny out today, with many large clouds and a hint of a storm on the horizon. It was windy up above the canopy, but nothing his large frame couldn't handle.

Looking around slowly, he saw signs of smoke towards a great body of water. Of course, he'd never seen such a sight before, that wasn't a rare brush fire or other such natural event. Leaning down somewhat, he told his fellow scouts what he'd found, and began wading through the jungle itself like it was merely an overgrown grassland.

The scouts ran to keep up with his large steps, pausing only to retrieve the fallen air tank already forgotten by their now giant companion. They ate up the distance quickly, making loud squeaky foot-falls and leaving quite a lot of disturbed brush in their wake.

The advance watch parties of the towns rangers came running back to the main forces almost in a panic, stammering about a gigantic lizard coming their way! Most of them had long since gotten used to the large lizards of the jungle, but nobody would call them gigantic in any sense of the word. They finally saw what had the others in a panic, as Hex came crashing through the final bit of treeline, and partially splashed into the lake. With one massive paw on the beach, and another in the water, he made for a curious sight at the least.

The more seasoned of individuals held their ground, but most everyone else ran screaming for their lives. They just couldn't make any sense of such a gigantic creature, so their minds simply told them to flee. Hex called back to his team that he'd found something, and eagerly resumed walking towards the improvised guard posts stationed around Fort Superior. He was happy to see such quaint structures and an apparently interesting people milling about, doing their thing. He wondered if they were some kind of Synth he'd not met before? There were tales of all the ones that wandered off into the Jungle and never came back. These could be family!

All the rangers heard was the roaring of a gigantic reptile coming their way, and they did they only thing they could. They attacked.

Armed with spears made from their utility knives and stout wooden poles, several dozen stout furs boiled over fallen logs and piles of debris. They charged with screams of rage and equal parts fear, launching themselves at the foot of this gigantic beast. Subconsciously they all knew today was the day they were going to finally die, but that didn't stop them from making the charge.

Hex wondered what these little people were doing, and briefly considered if he had somehow frightened them with his current stature. He noticed a flash of steel down below, and only had a split second to ponder the sharp objects coming his way before he was stabbed several times in the foot. An ear-splitting pop of stretched out rubber filled the air, as Hex had a blow out.

He deflated rapidly from the large hole in the side of his rubbery footpaw, crumpling down into a mass of stretched out rubber. It all rapidly came back down to his normal size as always, leaving a deflated still rather large rubber dinosaur sitting at the feet of several very confused rangers. They took up their arms once more as the rest of the scouting team came running in on the heels of their now deflated comrade, but this time hesitated with their attack. After all, gigantic monster lizards don't pop.

The rangers quickly noticed that the 5 approaching creatures were also quite large, but looked much like their deflated friend. Namely, rubbery and shiny, catching the light off the lake in amusing ways. They were also speaking, if fast and with a squeaky accent to it all. But still, after quieting everybody down, the rangers on station quickly realized they were being addressed in English.

The mayor himself was one of the many people holding a spear, and he came forwards to do his job. Or at least, what he thought must be his job.

"Whoa, whoa there. Everybody calm down, and lets try to keep some order here. They're obviously not attacking, so lets put those pig stickers away, shall we?"

Lucas gestured with a fuzzy paw, and the majority of rangers stuck their spears into the soft dirt along the beachfront. The Synth scouts dropped their packs and bags, and approached carefully while keeping an eye on the crumpled form of Hex.

One of the two rubbery looking whales set down what looked like an old compressed air tank, and spoke up.

"Well! It seems we've gotten started on the wrong foot here. Hello there strangers! We're a group of scouts from The Dome. Are you settlers from there as well, or did you wander in from another Dome? I see you've already met our friend Hex here. Mind if we tend to him?"

The mayor started to reply but found the rest of the strange creatures were already picking up their fallen comrade, and doing things to him. The other whale applied a sticky looking adhesive patch to the puncture on Hex's foot, while the rest looked for other signs of puncture or stress. None found, they left the patch to cure, and sat down to wait.

Lucas thought them a curious lot.

"Dome? No, we're not from any dome. Most of us were from the major cities dotted around the area. We woke up a few years ago, and came here to build Fort Superior. Just what are you people? You certainly don't look like any fur we've ever seen. What has happened to the world since everything went to hell?"

The self-appointed whale spokesman blinked his rubbery eyes a few times with confusion, his mind working through facts and histories from books studied long ago. With dawning comprehension, he realized just what was going on here. These were the ancient ones! The creatures that lived before the great disaster that befell this planet, and wound up creating the race of Synths.

What a find this was! The historians back in the main Dome would simply love to have this information to add to their data piles. With a laugh, the still rather large Whale snatched up Lucas in a bear hug, squeezing him firmly against his soft rubbery chest and middle. Dwarfed, Lucas could only feebly hug back, quickly waving off any attempts from the Rangers to lance this creature too. He found that this odd fellow was rather soft and warm to the touch, and was evidently filled with air. Very pleasant to hug, that's for sure.

Hugs were returned, and pleasantries exchanged, and finally the ice was broken. Most of the Rangers turned and went back to town to tell everyone things were fine, and they could go back about their business. Some stayed to guard the area, as they always did. Lucas invited the scouts to come back into town, and have refreshments.

The whale, Zephyr, as Lance found out, had no idea what refreshments were. But he still encouraged the others to pack up and follow along. In short order they had their bags and packs back on, while one of them carried a rolled up bundle of Hex. As one group, the lot of Furs and Synths walked into Fort Superior, to talk and get to know one another.

---

It was about an hour later, that Lucas and the Synths were sitting around on hand crafted stools before a fireplace, enjoying cups of warm tea and biscuits. At least, Lucas was. The Synths didn't know what to make of their "refreshments", as they'd never seen anything of the sort before. Sure, some of them had read that the earlier civilization ate food, but they didn't really believe it. If they didn't need to, why would anyone else?

Eventually they gave up any attempts to enjoy the beverages in a conventional sense, and merely had fun holding the warm cups in their puffy paws, warming up their air within. Lucas briefly summed up their short future history, how they'd all gone into the survival tubes when the bombs fell. And how they'd emerged to find this strange planet, and made the best for themselves.

Zephyr however went into as much detail as he could about the multiple centuries he could remember of Synth history, their evolution, their rapid development into a society, and their limited technological advancement. He mentioned that they would need to go back once they got Hex back into shape, and that definitely caught the attention of the town mayor.

"What, you mean he's going to be fine? I thought we'd killed him, and you were just bringing the body back."

The big whale chuckled, 9 feet of giant inflatable fellow squeaking with every movement.

"No no, he'll be fine. Killed? We've read about that, but I don't understand it. Can't you "furs" fix yourselves like we do?"

As Lucas watched, one of the team hooked the crumpled form of Hex up to their air tank, and started blowing him up again. The tank was nearly empty, so it was a slow process. He went on to explain what he knew of biology, and that they weren't exactly air filled creatures like a Synth. This was the first time the Synths had really had death explained to them from a different point of view, and it left them feeling somewhat frightened. What might have happened to all those Synths that had vanished into the jungle. Were they... Dead? It baffled the mind. Well until they found some proof of the matter, no sense getting worked up about it. After all, so long as another Synth was around, they would always be fixed in time.

Hex soon filled back up to shape, his head brushing the ceiling as all 12 feet of rubber dinosaur blew up nice and bulky. He hunched down automatically even as he started to wake up, groggy and looking down at the fresh patch on his foot. He glanced down at Lucas and emitted a high pitched squeak of fear, worried that they were going to pop him again.

His team managed to calm him down before he broke anything, or wound up bursting himself again on a sharp object. Sitting down on the floor, soon the big rubber dinosaur joined in on the conversation, and quickly calmed down from his previous ordeal. Introductions were made, and Hex finally shook paws with the much smaller Lucas. He was nearly twice the fellows size!

Questions and answers were given out late into the night, and Lucas finally asked if they needed lodging. The Synths waved off the invitation to have their camp set up somewhere, and instead merely fell into a pile of happy squeaking bodies in one corner. Piled one atop the other, they cuddled up tight and prepared to sleep for as long as their host did. They invited Lucas to join them in the pile, but he politely declined. Instead he went to the other side of the cabin, and crawled into his own bed. Despite the squeaking noises and muttered conversation, he still managed to fall into a deep sleep.

Hex looked over at the little fellow and briefly shook his huge head, smiling a tad.

"What a strange bunch, these furs are."

Chapter 6: Home for Dinner.

The following day was an interesting one to say the least. The scouting party of Synths were fully introduced to the little village of survivors, though it required partially deflating Hex just to get him through the door of the mayors cabin. After a brief moment of getting puffed back up to size, they were lead around the place. Hands were shook, conversation was shared, and in general the two groups got to know one another.

The Synths went on in detail about where there home was and how to get there, and that the assorted furs were more than welcome to come along for a visit or even to stay. They had plenty of room to go around, that much was certain. Also, it was a sure thing that some of these pre-war creatures might just know a thing or two about fixing ageing machinery. Hell, they might even be able to make new stuff! What a boon they might be to the common inflatable.

Towards the afternoon the Synths gathered their limited supplies, and bid farewell to the town. As they vanished into the Jungle once again, a town meeting was called to determine a course of action. One or two hot-heads said that such creatures were unnatural abominations and should be destroyed. Cooler minds spoke up however, and reminded the lot that they were a product of evolution, caused by the war so many years before. So as strange as it might be, they were perfectly natural as far as nature was concerned.

The question was raised as to what they as a town were going to do with themselves. They knew they were not alone, and they knew that these strange inflatable creatures had a more advanced civilization than they did. Random people mentioned that they never saw the Synths eat or drink, and mayor Lucas confirmed that they apparently did not need such forms of nourishment. Evidently they gained their energy from some other unknown source.

Many of the townspeople wanted to go check out this Great Dome, but an issue of personal survival was at hand. The Synths did not eat, they did not drink, they did not need the same facilities a fur did. So they would be starting all over again, having to hunt and grow new crops from scratch. Some didn't want to abandon what they had stated here, and vowed to stay even if everyone else left.

Plans were hatched, and it was agreed to get this seasons crop out of the ground first, then go see if they could live in Synth country. It was only a week or two on foot to get there, so if nothing else they could just turn around and come back, no harm done. About the time Hex and his party got back home and began their reports, harvest began and the colony of furs got ready to come for a visit, or to stay.

---

The city council of the Great Dome was indeed happy to see the scouting party return, and was happier still to hear the news of their discovery. Many the workers at their precious factory were excited to learn that they might just have help soon, if not an entirely new facility should all things work out. A few historians bothered to look through old literature about their potential fuzzy visitors, and tried to see what would be needed for their care and comfort.

They were briefly surprised to see that they needed so much to live by, but calmed down once they remembered that they'd made this discovery about life at large centuries ago. It seemed only the Synth could live on air alone, and everything else needed food and water. Well water wasn't a problem, as they'd enclosed many open sources of the stuff inside their Dome. There was even a small river coming in one side of the dome and exiting out the other, with fish swimming by on a daily basis. They were fun to watch for hours on end.

Plans were drawn up for public sanitary facilities, to be used for guests until they actually laid down roots and built their own toilets and the like. The food issue was a bit of a problem, as none of the Synths had any idea how to grow crops. They understood the theory based on books they'd read, but nobody had ever tried it. At least there were fish in the river, so that would do for now. With crops in mind, the Synths decided to use several of their smaller open sports fields for agriculture, and closed them down for now.

Everyone was quite certain that any guests they had would be happy with what they saw, and decide to stay. They were quite eager to have company, as hanging around with the same people for a few hundred years can get rather boring.

Some weeks later the first group of furs showed up at their doorstep, finding their way to one of the great portals and literally knocking at the door. Screens turned on and made a quick visual inspection of the travelling party, led by none other than Lucas. With the doors yawning open, the two dozen mixed critters walked into the great dome, and found themselves awestruck. It was simply gigantic within! You could just barely see where the Dome was half of the time, so clear was the material it was constructed from.

They were greeted by thousands of squeaking inflatables, all happy to see the new guests and hopefully fresh citizens to the Dome. It was with great pride that the Synth engineering teams showed off the rows of public toilets, which were little more than outhouses. Still, they did their job, so the furs were thankful. They were considerably more pleased to see the river running through the great facility, and the large healthy looking fish within. When they were shown the large fields they could use for farming, their cups very nearly ran over.

Lucas and the others decided they were staying right where they were, and many a cheer went up within the great tide of Synths. Orders had been left back at their town for anyone else to follow as they desired, so more furs could be coming at any time. That night there was a great party and improvised feast, consisting mostly of freshly caught fish, and some of the provisions the travellers brought with them. They were a bit shocked and concerned at all the inflating, deflating, popping, and squeaky fun going on, but they quickly grew used to the idea. After all, this was a sentient race of pool toys.

Homes were found for the colonists with helpful Synths, all of which provided many the collection of soft rubbery things to sleep on at night. Work progressed quickly in the fields, and it was only a matter of days before they were planting new crops and really starting to see this place as home. Having hundreds if not thousands of eager farm hands certainly sped things along. The furs were here to stay, and it seemed they would be comfortable if nothing else.

Over the weeks and months to come, life within the Dome changed quite a bit for all. More survivors from the Jungle showed up, until several hundred were living within. Those with backgrounds of a technical or mechanical nature went to work with the ageing dome facilities, fixing some and helping to rig up new equipment to keep it all going. Farmers kept on doing what they did best, producing food from the earth. Others fished from the river, built new homes, bathing facilities, and all the other things they thought they might need.

The furs found the Synths to be great company, all to willing to help with whatever project they had in mind, or just spend hours cuddling your worries away. They were soft and squishy, and very fun to be in direct contact with.

Years passed, children were born, homes were built, and families grew. Many furs chose to cohabitate with the Synths just for mutual enjoyment, and several even entered into relationships with one another. The main factory was brought up to spec again, and quickly went to work producing new rubber and patch kits for all. It was looking like the Synth population might not be so static for much longer.

Other domes reported similar groups of survivors being rescued from the Jungle, and brought into loving and very open arms. It seems life was getting back on track for everyone that survived the bombs, and those that came into being after it all as well. And so it all stayed for some time. The population of furs grew to equal that of the Synths, while the Synth population started to increase as well. New rubbery critters came into being, and those of old spent their time teaching their youth of the world they found themselves in.

This is Earth. Population, unknown. Two mighty races have risen to the top of the food chain, and share their high horse with pride. Synth and fur are one, and quite happy with the situation.

If you should visit, bring some air tanks, would you?

The End.