Fresh Air

"Clanker not like dirty water… want fresh air…"

The grinding, sorrowful moan vibrated in Banjo's ears, distorted in the thick waves of the murky waters he was swimming through. He would wonder what it was in a minute, but right now his burning lungs were keeping him busy.

It wasn't like he couldn't swim. Bears had no problem in the water. The only actually problem was that he hadn't trained himself to hold his breath longer than a few seconds. They had been underwater for only about a half a minute- thirty precious seconds- and already his chest ached for a breath of fresh air. He kicked his legs, swung his arms in wide arcs, anything to push himself through this underwater tunnel and back up to the surface of the next chamber.

Thankfully, Kazooie was doing her part, her wings also arcing back to further propel them forward. Banjo was actually surprised at how well she kept her cool; usually birds have a difficult time underwater, from what he had heard. Maybe it was because she was able to hold herself steady, being anchored to his back and all. Then again, it took much to make his partner lose her cool; not her temper, her cool.

At last! The surface! The duo scrambled upwards, crashing through the surface with huge gasps of air. Banjo collapsed over a floating platform, coughing in revulsion.

Holding his breath was one thing. But the water quality in this place was simply revolting.

His fur had been matted down with the filthiest of liquids, giving him a stink that would last him at least through the witch's entire lair, if not longer. He retched and hacked up a nasty combination of saliva and… whatever ungodly things contaminated these waters, leaving the most disgusting taste lingering in his mouth. He couldn't even begin to fathom what went through the filters in this giant garbage plant, let alone did he want to.

Once he did his fair share of dry vomiting, he sighed and tried to get his breath back. The smell of filth and rusty metal didn't help, but he coped the best he could, clutching the floating rock with his claws and letting his body hover in the still waters. He listened to Kazooie hack behind him, and waited patiently for her to finish.

"…y…you okay, Kaz…?" he asked breathlessly.

"…pe…peachy. Just peachy," came a typical response. Banjo smiled softly in some comfort.

"Hey… was it just me…" he spoke between breaths. "…or did you hear a voice?"

"…Yeah." Kazooie, awfully stiff, raised a wing to point over his shoulder. "…I think it came from that thing."

Banjo followed her gaze, and could only stare at the massive contraption that floated before them in the main chamber of the plant. It appeared to be a large mechanical shark, barely held together with loose bolts and years of rust alone (much like its dwelling), its stained teeth locked in a mirthless grin. Most of it was submerged, its flimsy flippers hovering aimlessly underwater.

The pair was still in a mix of awe, fear, and remorse. Gruntilda took much of her tools for granted.

They jumped when its googly eyes turned their way.

"Oh, geez!" Banjo nearly lost his grip on the rock. "I… is it alive??"

"Looks like," Kazooie answered offhandedly. "Hey! Rust-bucket! You talking to us?"

Banjo had time to frown disapprovingly her way, as the machine took its time to reply.

"…I'm… Clanker…" it drawled hopelessly, its jaws creaking from abuse. "…Grunty's… garbage grinder…"

"Ooh…" Kazooie cringed sympathetically. "I'd hate to do THAT for a living."

"Someone… has to… do it…"

She paused, properly surprised. "Good point."

Banjo frowned in concern, remembering his expression of discomfort from before. He didn't know what conditions like this did to a creature like Clanker, but he honestly couldn't blame it. This place simply wasn't livable.

"…We heard you down there, Clanker," he spoke up. "Is there any way we could help?"

The motorized fish eventually replied, "…look under Clanker."

Uneasily, Banjo did so, discovering that Clanker was attached to a chain that led deep, deep down into a seemingly endless chasm.

"…there is a key… hooked to the chain…"

"…down there?" he asked meekly. "ALL the way down there?"

"…turn the key… and Clanker will raise up for air."

The bear gulped.

"Turn the key, got it!" Kazooie, fearless as ever, slapped her partner's shoulder. "Let's go for it, Banjo!"

"…all the way…down there…" he muttered, paling.

"Aw, come on, Banjo!" She turned his gaze back to Clanker. "Look at 'em!"

One glance at the pitiful machine's doleful face was all it took.

Banjo sighed.

"Alright…you ready?"

"As I'll ever be, fuzzface."

In unison, the two took big, deep breaths, and dove under the murky surface once more.

Visibility was horrible, but Banjo could barely make out the dull shapes of Clanker's chain links though the dirty waves, and they followed it down for some distance. Already, his head ached from the increasing water pressure. It seemed they were entering a smaller, tighter chamber, as his feet painfully kicked rock walls more than once, launching sand outwards to further cloud their eyes.

They were halfway down when Banjo's lungs began to burn again, a painful burn he was beginning to recognize more and more. Already his eyes stung from the filth and chemicals, and his limbs were sore from constant swimming. But unable to express this without swallowing the disease surrounding him, he continued to numbly push on, clawing though the water. For the force he lost with each push, Kazooie compensated with fuller strokes. When he glanced over his shoulder at her, fear laced in his bloodshot eyes, she gave an acknowledging nod to him. That was all he could get for comfort while submerged, and it was all he needed.

Eventually, the tunnel opened up slightly into a small cavern, where the chain was hooked to a massive hunk of metal, securely anchoring Clanker down. An equally large key stretched out from the side of the lock, and looking at it size, Banjo began to internally panic. How on earth were they going to turn that huge thing!?

Desperate, he launched himself down and took a solid hold of the key's side. An unidentifiable substance rubbed off on his fingers from contact.

Then, he pushed. And pushed. And pushed. Every shove took away a good portion of what little precious air he had left, and his hands burned from the rusted metal.

And even worse; the key refused to budge.

No! NO! NO! MOVE, DARNIT, COME ON!!!

Banjo's life was flashing before his eyes. Was this it? Was his first adventure over? Would this be his watery grave? Oh, good lord, anywhere but this hopeless pit of filth!

Suddenly, he felt the familiar, stabbing pain of Kazooie's beak pecking his already pounding head. She was trying to get him under control, obviously. Now was not the time to be panicking!

Recoiling from the blow, Banjo's gut slammed into the key in front of him, and a flood of dirty bubbles escaped from his mouth as the pollution finally drained into his throat. He gagged and struggled helplessly, his cries for help lost in the churning, thick-as-molasses waves.

It didn't take long for him to give in, however, as his limbs were just too tired to kick around anymore, his chest too sore to hold his air. He relaxed his muscles, letting his body float limply in the waters as blackness crept into his vision from the outside. He futility tried reaching for the key, which was growing farther away from him.

Darnit… he was so close… so…

"Gasp! GASP!"

Wait, what? Did he just take a breath??

Tiredly, he opened his eyes to meet the face of a most delighted fish.

He screamed again and tried to swim away, but a sharp claw grabbed the nape of his neck, leaving him to moan to himself and relax. Kazooie scowled above him for his idiocy.

"Hi there!" the fish spoke, inappropriately gleeful considering his environment. "My name's Gloop! You should've said something if you were low on air!"

Both Banjo and Kazooie gave him an identical glare.

"…oh, right. Air breathers can't talk underwater. My bad!" Gloop grinned. "Anyways, I'll give you air bubbles while you work on that key!"

The pair looked at each other. Then Banjo nodded to him gratefully, and Gloop followed as they swam back over to the key, much more calmly now.

Having a steady air supply helped considerably. Every few shoves, Gloop coughed up a clean air bubble, and the bear and bird each took a solid breath before returning to their task, reenergized. Even so, the key still wouldn't move. Kazooie was becoming annoyed, and Banjo was becoming extremely frustrated.

"…oh, hey, here's a thought!" Gloop made them jump with his bright voice piping up. "Maybe you're pushing the wrong way! Try doing it from the other side!"

Kazooie rolled her eyes. Banjo facepalmed. Of course. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

They swam through the key's hole and latched on the other side. After a few more shoves, there was a heavy clank, and the key tugged them forward a bit. Highly encouraged, Banjo continued to push, with Kazooie rapidly stroking her wings for the extra force, until, at last, the key lurched out of his grasp, groaning as it made a full rotation. Several churning clanks followed as the chain began to raise, Clanker surely raising with it.

Success!

Gloop helped them to the surface, letting Banjo grip his tailfin and drag them upwards. Once more, they collapsed on the floating rock, and the bear fully heaved his body onto the relatively dry surface, flopping on his stomach and taking his time to regain his breath.

"…that was close…" he wheezed. "…that was too darn close."

"You shouldn't have panicked, you numbskull!" Kazooie exclaimed, fully able to scold him now. "It was HARD, y'know, dragging your sorry bulk over to Bubble-boy!"

"…m'sorry." Banjo sighed. He'd except Kazooie's wrath anytime. At least he was ALIVE. That was what mattered.

And let's not forget…

Clanker had surfaced at last, its metal hide gleaming with as much brilliance as rusted metal can gleam. That wasn't saying much at all, but after all, much of the gleam came from the shark's grateful, toothy grin.

"…Clanker has fresh air at last… thank you… bear and bird."

Past the reeking stench of garbage and sore lungs, Banjo and Kazooie beamed back.