Slimer (21 page)

    The pilot chuckled. And for a moment sounded like Alex. Linda wanted to scream again - to launch herself at the thing and rip at it with her nails - but she could only sit frozen in her seat, transfixed by the single, staring, unfathomable eye.

    'I'm afraid that wasn't Shelley. That was me. Or rather the other me. Shelley had remarkable will-power. He held out longer than all the rest but in the end he had to succumb to me. It was inevitable.'

    'Then there are lots of you?' asked Linda fearfully.

    'No. Not. There is just me now. What the other "I" told you, apparently, while imitating Shelley was the truth. Or had been the truth. I didn't possess the means to reproduce but once it became obvious that the heroin was killing me I was obliged to rapidly evolve some sort of reproductive mechanism. The result was crude, but, as you can see, effective.' Again there came the obscene chuckle. 'And in a sense you two are responsible for this new development in my life cycle.'

    'You got to the pilot,' said Paul bitterly, 'took him over…'

    'Not in the way you think,' said the creature. 'Otherwise nothing would have been solved. There would have been two of us dying of heroin withdrawal. Instead I injected him with a small collection of newly-formed cells - an embryo if you like, but one that contained all the information and memories of the parent organism. In other words, a miniature version of me.

    'Once implanted within the host the embryo grew and spread at a remarkably fast rate, cannibalising the host's various organs as it went. The whole process only took twenty-seven minutes from start to finish, though it was a very long twenty-seven minutes for the host, I'm afraid…' Again the chuckle. 'Yes, from the host's point of view my reproductive method has its drawbacks. Extremely painful ones. As you yourselves will find out before this flight is over.'

    'Us?' Paul couldn't keep the fear out of his voice. 'Why do you need to reproduce again? You're not dying now?'

    'Ah, but there's still only one of me. I know now - or rather let's say "I" am now aware on the genetic level - that I must continue to reproduce to ensure my survival. As I told you, thanks to your very nearly successful efforts to destroy me I have evolved a step further. As will always be the case whenever you puny humans attempt to stop me.'

    'But does it have to be us?' cried Linda desperately. 'Couldn't you just let us go?'

    'Idiot,' said the creature blandly. 'Fear is making you irrational. Anyway it pleases me to have you two as the carriers of my seed. As the ones who almost killed me it is fitting you should assist me in the introduction of my kind to your world.'

    'You mean you intend to keep on reproducing?' exclaimed Paul. 'What will happen when…?'

    'What always happens when a superior species confronts an inferior one. The superior one overwhelms and eradicates the inferior - and I am unquestionably superior. I possess the combined intelligence of many of your scientists as well as great strength and various other unique physical characteristics, as you well know. I am the ultimate survivor. The end product of evolution because I will always be one step ahead of any competitor. And soon there will be ten of me, then twenty, hundreds, then thousands. The human race will quickly collapse and its remnants will be acknowledging its new masters…'

    'But does it have to be like that?' cried Linda. 'You said yourself you have the combined intelligence of many people. With such great intelligence why do you need to be our enemy? Shouldn't you be beyond such primitive emotions as the need for violence?'

    The single eye regarded her unemotionally for a few moments, then the creature said, 'You're confusing intelligence with some hazy notion of moral superiority. Just because something is intelligent doesn't necessarily mean it has a well-developed empathy for other living creatures. That concept is a piece of wish-fulfillment created by the more idealistic among your race. But your human system of ethics is meaningless to me anyway. This intelligence I possess - a mental patchwork of the minds I have absorbed - is nothing but another survival tool to me. At the core I remain what I originally was before those scientists, in their egotistic way, took me from my natural world and carried out their experiments. I still have the same primal drives… the same appetites…'

    As he'd been talking his voice had gradually changed, becoming harsh and guttural. And now he was beginning to change physically too. The skin turned to an unpleasant greyish-white colour and the head became more elongated. Then, when it turned to look directly at Paul for the first time Linda saw that the pilot's face had disappeared. A round, glassy eye, like the one on the back of its head, was the dominant feature in its profile. That, and a protruding lower jaw from which a forest of triangular teeth jutted upwards.

    'But no more talking,' it said, fixing its gaze on Paul, 'I have pleasured myself with you long enough. I estimate we will reach the mainland in forty-five minutes and by that time I want you both to have completed the gestation process…'

    What happened next reminded Linda of a demonstration she'd once seen on TV of a briefcase designed to be thief-proof. When activated, the case had sprouted long telescopic poles designed to prevent the thief from carrying the case any distance. A similar manifestation was now occurring with the creature. Several long appendages erupted from its body, bursting out through the pilot's clothing, and began to grow at alarming speed. Two of them, coming out of the top of its shoulders, attached themselves to the ceiling of the cabin, presumably to brace the creature, while others fastened onto Paul and Linda.

    Linda screamed as three of the slimy things, which had burst out of the creature's back, pinned her to her seat.

    'Don't struggle!' warned the creature. 'Remain still and accept the inevitable. Your agony will not be in vain - it will be serving a great purpose…'

    'You bastard!' yelled Paul. 'You enjoy causing, pain - and that makes you more human than you think you are. Yes, fish-head, you've become tainted along the way… there's probably more of Alex in you now than you… Superior species, my arse, you're just like us, only more so.'

    'Silence! And be still! This is the delicate part…'

    Linda saw that something else was emerging from the creature towards Paul. A white, pulpy-looking tentacle. On its tip was a sharp, thorn-like point from which dripped globules of black slime. Paul increased his efforts to break free when he saw the thing snaking towards his bare stomach but he was held tight by four of the thick appendages.

    
Tainted! Alex!
The two words blazed together in Linda's mind with a significance she didn't, at first, consciously grasp. Then she, realised she was staring at Alex's money belt around Paul's waist and it all fell into place.

    'We have more heroin!' she screamed. 'You can have it! All of it!'

    The point of the tentacle stopped moving. It was only inches away from Paul's flesh. 'More heroin?' asked the creature. 'No. You are lying.'

    'In the belt! Look for yourself. We didn't use it all!' she cried frantically.

    'It is of no significance to me. I don't want it.'

    'There's lots of it!' she persisted. 'And you can have it all. Think of it!'

    'No!' yelled the creature with surprising vehemence. 'I don't need it!'

    But already one of the appendages had released its grip on Paul's shoulder and was fumbling at the money belt. Small rudimentary fingers, like those of a thalidomide victim, reached into one of the pouches and produced several packets of heroin.

    Linda knew then that her gamble was going to pay off. She had remembered that when women heroin addicts gave birth their babies were similarly addicted.

    The creature, though 'new-born' was still an addict!

    Other appendages had joined the first one at the belt. More packets of heroin were pulled out of the belt.

    'No!' cried the creature. But it couldn't help itself. The appendages holding the packets started to withdraw back into the body, taking the heroin with them. And as the drug disappeared into the creature Linda immediately felt its grip on her relax. 'No…' it repeated, but in a much weaker voice.

    A few seconds later it slumped sideways in its seat and the other 'arms' began to retract. Suddenly Linda was free. She knew what she had to do…

    Undoing her belt she stood up and leaned across the thing's right shoulder. As quickly as possible she released its own seat belt, praying that it wouldn't stir.

    'What…?' began Paul dazedly.

    'Shhh. Get ready.'

    Now she was stretching to reach the door handle. The effort caused a flare-up of pain in her broken left arm but she ignored it. Her fingers touched the handle. She undid the safety catch then turned it. Then she began to slide the door open.

    Paul now saw what she was doing. Quickly he swung his legs up and planted his feet against the creature's side. As Linda got the door open he kicked out…

    But the contact, together with the rush of cold air into the cabin, had the effect of rousing the thing out of its somnolent, state. As its body slid sideways through the doorway it gave a bellow of rage and made a grab for the edges of the opening. To Linda's horror it succeeded in getting a grip and hung there…

    Linda gave a wailing cry ofdespair when she saw this. It was going to beat them after all.

  There was a deafening explosion. Paul had opened fire with the M16. As the bullets tore into it the thing's head erupted, gushing black slime… It was as if it had been hit with a large, black tomato. The creature screamed. For a long moment it hung on then, abruptly, it vanished. One second it was there, its bulk filling the doorway, and the next there was nothing to see but grey sky.

    Paul let out a cry of triumph. 'Sonofabitch! We did it!'

    But there was no time to celebrate. The helicopter gave a violent lurch and then started to go into a spin. Linda screamed with pain as she was flung off balance and fell hard onto her broken arm. She was only dimly aware of Paul grabbing at the controls in a desperate attempt to bring the machine out of its spin…

    Finally he succeeded. The sickening motion ceased and the helicopter was again flying on an even keel. Linda dragged herself upright and looked around. There was nothing to see through either the windows or the open door but grey cloud.

    'Paul, what are we going to do?' she cried. The mental image of them crashing into the sea flashed unwanted into her mind.

    'Don't ask me,' he yelled over the noise of the engines. 'I'm out of my league already! Hey, try and close that door, will you?'

    She managed to slide the door shut. 'Will you be able to land it okay?'

    'Are you kidding? I don't even know what direction we're going in. And I pulled her out of that spin by pure fluke.'

    Linda peered over his shoulder to look at the controls. She saw he was gripping two levers and had his right foot pressing on a floor pedal.

    'The thing on the floor controls the tail rotor,' he explained. 'And that's the tricky bit. Or one of them. I think you can use it to turn with… but I'm not sure how and I don't want us to go into another spin.'

    'I thought you knew the basics of flying a helicopter,' she cried accusingly.

    'I do, sort of. I know if you push forward on this lever here we go down, and if I pull back on it we go up. It tilts the plane of the rotors. And if I push this other lever to the side, we fly sideways…'

    'Oh, that's marvellous.' How ironic it would be, after overcoming probably the most dangerous creature ever to exist on Earth, to die in a silly helicopter crash.

    'Hey, it's going to be okay. We'll get out of this somehow.'

    ''Sure. We can fly sideways until we run out of fuel. Perhaps by then we'll be over a mattress factory.' She felt light-headed. Despite the danger they were still in she was experiencing a vast sense of relief. It was gone…

    'Do you think it's dead?' she asked suddenly.

    'Not yet, probably. But I think it soon will be. That was a massive dose of heroin it gave itself. Not as much as we injected into the oer one but I'm certain it will be enough to do the job. It's about 200 miles from land - it won't last long enough to reach another supply of the drug.'

    'God, I hope so Paul. But what if that wasn't enough heroin to kill it? What if it does get to the mainland?'

    He shrugged. 'It'll be the government's worry then. Out of our hands. We'll give them all the information we've got - the cassettes - and leave it up to them.'

    'If we make it,' she said darkly.

    They flew on in silence through the grey cloud. Then Paul said, 'I'm going to try to take us down underneath this cloud. Then we'll give your original idea a go.'

    'My idea? Which one was that?'

    'Finding another oil platform and ditching this thing near it. It has floats. Our chances will be better in the water than me trying to come down on hard ground.'

    

    

    The plan almost worked. Paul succeeded in bringing the machine down below the cloud level and after a tense half hour's flying they sighted another oil platform ahead in the distance. For one awful moment, as it emerged out of the greyness, Linda thought it was the same one they'd been on but as they drew closer to it she could see it was definitely a different rig. Instead of having four separate legs it rested on a huge single concrete pillar.

    Paul also managed to guide the helicopter fairly close to the rig, swooping low in a wide circle around it to ensure its occupants were aware of their arrival. Then, when he was certain they'd been spotted, Paul started his descent, aiming to set the machine in the water some sixty yards from the platform.