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Mystic Rain Soda
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“I won’t sugar coat it,” you begin, trying not to strike a callous tone. “Nothing down below is in peak condition by a long shot, and the part of the network that’s been cut off is in even worse shape.”
“Is it the pumps?”
“The water pumps, air pumps, and the filtration systems,” you explain, noting the creases of concern on the canine’s face. “Give it a couple more weeks, a month at most, and I think at least one major sanitation and oxygen filtration system out of three will probably be down for good. The subsequent increase in strain across the remaining network will probably mean complete lights out within the next two months.”
“What’s worse is that those systems must be the ones that are only accessible from inside the tank,” he conjectures with a whine. “Otherwise, I likely would have found the damages during my external sweeps.”
“We might be able to selectively shut down parts of the tank for cleaning and maintenance,” you suggest. “The bigger problem we’d have to solve first though, is just getting the actual replacement hardware. Vault-grade construction for self-sustaining aquatic ecosystems isn’t exactly common.”
“Then what do you propose?”
“Fortunately, there is a silver lining in all of this, and it’s that there is another Vault that I know of that could potentially have replacements for your systems. The only issue is that it’s near a major body of water…”
“Where the Lurker’s presently hold dominion, which would make any sort of bulk supply transport inadvisable,” Theodore finishes with a sigh.
“Even if I could make them magically disappear, the salvage job would require either human labor or some aquatically adapted robotic bodies, and the only models I know of that would fit that moniker.”
“Are in the hands of the raider cult with a penchant for brainwashing.”
“There might be solutions that I’m not seeing,” you admit, “but those are the cards on the table as I see them. For now, at least, I’d start preparing for the worst. Start rationing and selectively downsizing the fish population, stockpiling reserves for what may be lean times ahead. In the meantime, I’ll try to wrangle some eggheads to take a second swing at this and bust a few skulls back home to make some headway.”
“Gods preserve us,” Theodore murmurs.
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