Origin (31 page)

“How about tools? Shovels, picks, axes?”

“In one of the Green rooms there’s a bunch of old excavating equipment. And I mean old. Left here from when they built the compound. Maybe you can dig your way into the original access tunnel, if you can find it, and escape through the caverns before the President nukes the whole area.”

“Can you come with us?”

Race shook his head.

Dr. Belgium took Race’s hand and grasped it firmly.

“Thank you, General. It was an honor serving under you.”

“Promise me something.” Race stared hard at Frank.

“Yes?”

“Whatever happens, see to it Bub doesn’t live for another day.”

Dr. Belgium smiled warmly. “Consider it done done done.”

The General watched the biologist leave. He’d always liked Dr. Belgium. He liked Sun and Andy too, even though he barely knew them.

It was too bad. Even if they did break through to the caverns, it wasn’t likely they could get far enough away in time. When the Samhain nuke didn’t go off, the President wouldn’t take any chances. He’d drop something substantially bigger than a single kiloton to guarantee zero chance of survival. There were strategic bomber bases in both Roswell and Amarillo. Race guessed he’d send an F-111E equipped with a B 83 bomb, capped by a nuclear warhead of at least twenty kilotons.

Slightly larger than the payload of Little Boy in the Hiroshima blast.

A surface impact would disintegrate Samhain, and pretty much everything else for a mile in all directions. Even if they managed to navigate the caves and get two miles away, they’d still have to deal with second to third degree burns, hundred mile per hour winds from the overpressure, and the radiation exposure, depending on the fissile material used.

A shame,
the General thought.

But better to go down swinging than lie there like a lump, as he was doing.

One Star General Regis Murdoch sighed. Then he closed his eyes and waited quietly for death.

A
ndy opened his eyes to the concerned face of Dr. Sunshine Jones. She had blood and dust smeared over both cheeks, and her hair was matted and tangled.

“You’re beautiful,” Andy said.

“You’re delirious. How do you feel?”

He lifted his hand and wiggled the fingers. The wrist was expertly taped up.

“It’s numb.”

“Lidocaine. You won’t be able to use it for a while.” Sun ran her fingers over Andy’s forehead.

Andy said, “Thanks. You know, for saving my life.”

“That’s what we doctors do.”

“How about the bomb?”

“Race switched it off. But there’s still a problem. He said the President would nuke Samhain anyway.”

“Our tax dollars at work.”

“Can you move?”

Andy sat up. His vision began to swirl and he instantly felt sick.

“Dizzy,” he said. “How long do we have?”

“An hour, maybe two. Dr. Belgium went to the Octopus to contact the President. But if that doesn’t work, we may still have a chance.”

Sun outlined the plan as Belgium had relayed it to her.

“The blueprints are in Red 3?” Andy asked.

“Yes. I remember filing them.”

“Bub’s in the Red Arm.”

“I know.”

“Are we supposed to tip toe in while he’s sleeping?”

“Maybe we won’t have to,” Sun said. “In the Med Supply room there are over a thousand different pharmaceuticals. How about I make Bub a little cocktail?”

Andy smiled. “Make it a big one.”

Sun left Andy in the hall and went into Yellow 6. She found a reusable enema on a shelf; a large rubber squeeze bulb with a thin plastic nozzle. To the end of the nozzle she attached a short length of plastic tubing and an IV needle. She now had a very big syringe.

Recalling Bub’s medical test history, Sun couldn’t remember which drugs had been tested on him. He’d been given many diseases, all of which caused no effect. So what would be good to try?

She began by looking at some sedatives.

Frank Belgium crawled through the air conditioning duct and into the Octopus, heaving with effort. His muscles were screaming at him. Even during the years at school and at BioloGen, he’d never been so exhausted. He sat down in the nearest chair and rubbed his neck and shoulders. After a few seconds he became aware of something wrong.

Bub was gone.

Belgium walked to the Red Arm and pulled down the stacked chairs, searching for the demon.

There was nothing, as far back as he could see.

Perhaps Bub had given up and locked himself back in the habitat. A pleasant thought, but Belgium didn’t think that was the case.

Moving quickly, Belgium reached through the bars in the gates and opened up the doors for all the arms, searching for the demon.

He didn’t find a trace of him.

“Andy! Sun!” Belgium called down the Yellow Arm.

“Yeah?” Andy yelled back. He was sitting next to the doorway to Yellow 6.

“Bub’s gone!” Belgium said. “He’s not in the Red Arm. I checked the others and he’s not there either.”

“Keep your eyes open,” Andy replied. “I don’t see how he could have gotten through that gate, but he’s a sneaky bastard.”

He sure is,
the biologist thought, paranoia creeping up. He could feel the demon’s eyes on the back of his neck.

Belgium walked around the Octopus again, to make sure Bub wasn’t in the room with him. Satisfied he was alone, he sat down at the computer terminal and accessed
CONTACT
, clicking on
EMERGENCY
.

Then he waited nervously for the President to answer.

Andy wiggled his fingers and tried to make a fist. He could only close his hand halfway. That wouldn’t be good enough; if they were to dig their way out of there he had to be able to hold a pick.

He tried again, straining with effort, and managed a little better. So intent was Andy on his injury that he didn’t noticed the movement to his right until it was within ten yards.

When he turned to look, his breath caught in his throat.

Bub was snaking silently out of the ceiling vent twenty yards to his right. The demon had somehow stretched its body to over eighteen feet in length. He moved like an inchworm, his middle section rising up in a hump as his rear section met his front claws.

“Aaaaaaaandy.”

Bub’s elastic face split into a toothy grin. Andy opened his mouth to scream, but Bub was on him before he had the chance.

Dr. Belgium tapped his fingers on the desk, waiting for the President to get on the damn video phone. He heard movement far behind him and felt the hair on the back of his neck spring to attention.

Belgium swivelled around and stared down the Yellow Arm.

Bub had Andy.

Andy had never felt so helpless. Bub had him clutched tightly in one claw. The other was pressed over his mouth, the talons tickling the back of his head.

The demon looked surprisingly different; like a sea serpent or a long, thin Chinese dragon. His face was elongated, reminding Andy of the times as a child he’d pressed silly putty onto a comic book and then stretched and distorted the figures. But the bloodshot eyes and the evil grin were pure Bub.

“Has the bomb been deeeeeeeactivated?”
Bub whispered, bathing Andy’s face with decay.

He removed his claw so Andy could answer.

“No,” Andy stammered.

“Liaaaaaaaaaaar.”

Andy felt the talons dig into his sides. He was being crushed and couldn’t draw a breath. Tears were squeezed from his eyes.

“It was shut off,” Andy whimpered.

Bub released his grip slightly and Andy gulped in some air.

“How do I get out of heeeeeere?”

Andy thought about the Green Arm, digging into the original tunnel. If Bub found out about it, it could very well mean the end of the human race.

“The Yellow Arm,” Andy said with as much emotion as he could muster. “There are four gates blocking the exit.”

“That’s the only waaaaaaaay?”

“Yes.”

“Liaaaaaaaaaaar.”

Bub moved his claw down Andy’s body.

“Here comes the paaaaaaaaain.”

The phone rang in Yellow 6, giving Sun a major startle. She picked it up with more than a little trepidation.

“Bub’s in the Yellow Arm,” Belgium’s voice said in a whisper. “He’s got Andy.”

Sun thought fast. Already in the enema was enough liquid sodium secobarbital to kill an elephant. She filled the remaining space with the potassium cyanide she’d been looking at and snapped on the nozzle.

Before opening the door she put her ear to it.

Andy was right outside, whimpering.

Sun took a lungful of air and swung open the door.

Bub had heard the phone ring and was ready for Sun. When the door flung open he had a long spindly claw outstretched to wrap around her.

What he hadn’t anticipated was her weapon.

As the giant talons encircled Sun’s body, she jabbed him in the wrist with some kind of small spear.

This amused Bub, but his demeanor quickly changed to shock when he felt the foreign liquid pulsing into his body, burning as it went.

What had she done?

He shoved Sun away, pushing her back into the Med Supply room, and then tossed Andy aside to yank the weapon out of his palm.

Bub stared at his hand, watching as the hole healed, but his expression was pure bewilderment. The nictating membranes over his eyes fluttered once, twice. His head swayed back and forth, and then his chin hit the ground with a
SLAP.

“Run!” Dr. Belgium yelled at them from the Octopus, looking at them through the gate. But they didn’t need to.

Bub was sprawled out on his face.

Sun limped out of Yellow 6, staring at the demon.

“Is he dead?” yelled Dr. Belgium.

“I’m not sure.”

She moved closer, reaching out her hand to take Bub’s pulse.

“Bad idea,” Andy grabbed her shoulder.

“We have to make sure he’s dead. If not, I can get more drugs and…”

Bub’s eyelids flicked open and his claw shot out at Sun.

Andy yanked her out of the way and they stumbled down the hall to the air conditioning vent. Sun went first, up the book case Belgium had pushed into the hallway for his ascension. Andy followed quickly.

Bub flopped over onto his belly and moaned, but he didn’t chase them.

Maybe the bastard was going to die after all,
Belgium hoped.

The computer monitor beeped. Dr. Belgium dragged his attention away from the Yellow Arm and went to the desk. The message bar read VIDEO INTERFACE ACTIVE and the President came on the screen. He looked as he always did; rosy cheeked and rested.

“I see Protocol 9 has failed,” he said.

Belgium frowned.

“We turned off the nuclear device. I’m sorry to disappoint you, but we’re all still alive.”

“I didn’t like the decision, Dr. Belgium, but I don’t regret it. The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. You can understand that.”

“Yes I can, Mr. President. I can also understand what it’s like to live with innocent blood on my hands. It isn’t pleasant. Though perhaps your political bearing makes you more tolerant of it than I.”

“You do realize the area still has to be neutralized.”

“Neutralized. That’s a nice way to put it. Like spraying a smoky room with disinfectant. Five people have already been neutralized by this ill-conceived little project. I don’t want the rest of us to follow suit.”

“I’m sorry, Dr. Belgium. My hands are tied.”

“Look, we’ve managed to knock out Bub. He may even be dead. And we got rid of the thing Helen turned into.”

“This is the way it has to be, Frank. We cannot allow for the slightest possibility that the occupant may escape. You knew this when you signed on at Samhain. You voluntarily accepted the risks.”

“Yes yes yes. But if there’s a chance of saving us and still destroying Bub, shouldn’t it be considered?”

“I am sorry, Frank. I truly am.”

He didn’t look sorry. Not a bit. He might have been talking about the economy or the budget.

“How long do we have?”

“Operation Slim Bob has already begun. It will reach completion in eighty-seven minutes.”

“Can we have more time?”

“That’s impossible.”

“No chance of a rescue?”

“Your country recognizes the sacrifice you’re making, Frank. May God be with you.”

Belgium rubbed his eyes and let out a deep breath.

“There is another favor, a personal one, that I would like to ask.”

“If it is within my power, consider it done.”

“It is within your power, Mr. President. And you could even do it right now.”

“Yes, Frank?”

“Go fuck fuck fuck yourself.”

Belgium hit the disconnect button.

“Eighty-seven minutes,” he said softly. “That isn’t enough—”

CLANG!

Belgium jumped six inches out of his chair and spun in the direction of the noise.

Crouching in the Orange Arm was another creature. Bigger than a hippopotamus, covered head to toe with coal-black scales. The thing cocked its head and stared at Frank with a bloodshot eye the size of a dinner plate.

It was on all fours, and its back nearly touched the hallway ceiling.