120 | John W. Warner IV own. royal bath. Bea splashed herself, gasping as her overheated body suddenly cooled. She then tested the bottom, walking in a wide circle, soft but rocky and firm underneath. Gwafa stuck his head out of his hatch. Cest bonT Yes, all good. Takuta, throw me a mess cup from the binquick, man. She caught it, and filled it with water, then splashed Gwafa. Refilling it, she scurried up the armor noticing all the hefty gouges and minute hits that looked like a sculptor had dug holes out of a solid block of clay with a round spatula, slipping here or there. Tough ol bugger. We can make it, I think. We need to throw off the dogs as to our direction, at least for a few moments, then set a trap of our own. We are very much wanted persons by now, and probably surrounded. She poured it on Takutas head. Close all the vents. Ill button up tight the bottom vent too. In a few moments they were ready, the turret now facing forward again after winning a barrel battle with a flexible tree. So he can swim, eh, Professor? Hed better. Lets go! Dont spare the horses, Gwafa. Hatches secure, Gwafa gunned it. The big Tiger sank into the pond, the water a meter and a half up to Gwafas vision block, the barrel temporarily submerged. The tank made a wake, looking for all the world like a giant prehistoric beast covered in lily pads, reeds, and Lotus flowers, the barrel well-adorned as if an Indian elephants Howdah during Vijayadashami day. The hull provided some buoyancy as per design specifications, she thought, and didnt sink too far despite its elephantine tonnage. Her head outside the top hatch, Bea clicked her mic. Go-go-go, dont stop whatever you do. Cmon, old boyswim! The tank surged forward at high rpm, churning up mud and sand with its aggressive metal tracks that acted as claws; it sank a little more near the far edge. Thats it. Keepgoing! Gwafa hit the side edge, the tank groaning for traction. It churned and churned, plowing up acres of mud and grass, water churning, frothing. Slowly it emerged, a filthy, muddy mess. Bea clicked. Okay, Gwafa, all ahead straight as she goes for fifty meters. Takuta pointed. Depress the barrel, mum, drain the water if theres any. She did so. Gwafa turn left. Now.. .turn left again. All stop. Now back up so I can traverse the barrel some.They pointed southward right at their original trail eighty meters ahead, the bent palms a giveaway to the original pond path. Gwafa reversed slowly, and a narrow clearing surrounded their front view, the