Now the hundreds of tons of steel were inexorably closer to the floor, pulping the thing.
The noise had stopped, and there was just a faint bubbling sound as the sec doors ceased moving.
While Michael stared at the dead creature, something slithered out of its mouth and began to crawl toward him, leaving a trail of gleaming slime. He realized to his disgust that it was like an embryonic version of its parent, deformed, unfinished, sent before its time.
As he crushed it under his heel, the thing made a tiny cheeping sound, like a baby chick.
Michael spun and walked straight to the mat-trans unit and pulled the door smartly shut behind him. He sat down with his arms folded around his knees and tried very hard to stop himself shaking.
But the mechanics of the jump were already in operation, and the blackness came first.
J.B. TOOK A SINGLE GLANCE outside the chamber of the unit, seeing that it looked just like a run-of-the-mill mat-trans unit. It smelled like there was fresh air close by.
There was no logical reason to wait around at all, so he stepped back one pace and closed the door again. He took off his spectacles and carefully folded them into a pocket, removed the fedora and laid it on the floor beside him. Then he sat and composed himself for what he knew wasn’t going to be a particularly enjoyable experience.
THE GRAY, MOSS-SPECKLED chamber was empty of human life, though the countless army of cockroaches scuttled across the floor as though it was celebrating its triumphant eviction of Doc Tanner.
The old man was standing in the outer room. Though his face was turned toward the broken-down sec doors, his eyes weren’t seeing them.
“Call in the pest-control firm, Emily,” he said, smiling and nodding. “It’s the only thing to do with an infestation like that. I fear that it must be that slovenly maid you insisted on taking on without a single reference to her name.” He paused as though he were listening to the other half of a conversation. “Oh, I know all about her widowed mother and her eight little babies. You and your soft heart, Emily, my dearest dove. I fear that it will be the death of you, one of these days.”
The air was damp, and every single surface was spotted with the intrusive lichen. It was a tribute to American workmanship from a hundred years earlier that most of the computer consoles were still functioning.
Doc sniffed and nodded. “Of course. It was my responsibility to see to that leak of rainwater that we had in the larder above the meat safe. Perhaps that is a part of the problem. But to see such horrible creatures in such numbers. I thank goodness that little Rachel and dear Jolyon have not become aware of them. By the Three Kennedys but” He stopped and wrinkled his forehead. “Who were the Three Kennedys, Emily? That is a puzzle and no mistake. I am reminded of the Schleswig-Holstein issue of yesteryear. So complex that only three men in history ever properly understood it.” He laughed, ignoring the torrents of insects that bustled around his feet. “One of them is dead, one went insane and the third of them has forgotten.”
In the corridor outside the shattered sec doors, a small stream of dank water was threading its sullen way past the entrance. The lights outside were faint, barely shining through the layer of clinging moss.
“One dead and one One was Jack and he was the shining knight who ruled over Camelot. Second was Bobby and he was the panther in the hurricane, the oldest living son who paid the blood price. Third was No, Emily, I disremember his name.”
Behind him a warning light had begun to flash, and there was an insistent beeping.
Doc started, the glazed expression disappearing from his eyes. “Malfunction, Ryan. Triple-red alert.” He hesitated. “Ryan? Where have you where have all the flowersto graveyards? Krysty and the laconic John Barrymore, the argumentative Dr. Wyeth and all, and all I fear that I have lost them, every one, and they have lost me.”