“They appear capable of rapid movement,” Brink declared, “yet they are reluctant to attack. They pursue us, but remain wary.”
“We may look like food,” Low panted, “but maybe we don’t smell right or something. Assuming they have a sense of smell, or any other senses that we’d recognize.”
Brink looked back over his shoulder. The creatures were continuing their horrible, humping pursuit. “Whatever they are employing, it is enough. They know we are here.”
“Throw ’em a life crystal,” Low suggested.
“Don’t be absurd, Commander! Not only are the crystals priceless and the supply finite, it would probably only give them strength.”
“You might be right there.” The vehemence of the scientist’s response caused Low’s gaze to narrow. “But we’ve got to try something.” He found himself wishing for a nice, freshly lubricated, unscientific .30-.30. No doubt a number of exotic weapons sat in display cases in the museum spire, appropriately labeled and ready for use. Trouble was, they didn’t know what was a weapon and what a kitchen blender. Besides, they were on the wrong island.
“I see several doors ahead.” Brink was having trouble breathing. “Which one?”
“Any one that opens,” Low shot back. Behind him, the eels were closing ground. As their bony bodies smacked rhythmically against the floor, they emitted nasty hissing sounds that seemed inadequate for their mass. Occasionally one would lift the upper third of its bulk off the floor, the better to locate the retreating humans before resuming pursuit.
Low reached the middle door. There was no handle, but deep grooves were etched into both sides of the barrier. Hooking his fingers into first one series of slots, then the next, he tried tugging hard.
Brink stood nearby, watching. “Hurry, Commander!”
“What do you think I’m doing? This doesn’t require any special scientific expertise, you know.”
Taking the hint, Brink started prying with his own fingers. He had no more success than his companion. The door remained resolutely shut.
Fumbling in his pockets and at his service belt, Low tried every compact tool he had. Nothing worked, and the eels were very close now.
“I’m all out of bright ideas,” he growled.
Brink had his hack against the smooth wall. “We will have to try to fight them.”
“Maybe your teeth are sharper than mine. There’s one thing we haven’t tried yet.”
So saying, he retraced their steps until he was almost within biting distance of the nearest eel. Then he turned, lowered his shoulder, and charged.
Under the impact, the door gave way with a satisfying crash.
Both men found themselves in a small, narrow hallway whose damp confines were anything but encouraging. It stank like a charnel pit. Piles of bones and other organic debris littered the floor.
With the eels pressing close on their heels, they retreated into the room. Low momentarily lost his balance, cursed, and didn’t look down to see what had caused him to slip.
“Feeding time at the zoo and we’ve holed up in the food locker. Great!”
“I have no desire to become a lunch myself,” muttered Brink. “I cannot imagine what these creatures normally eat, but it is evident that their intentions toward us are anything but benign. Their aggressiveness suggests that they are more than simply scavengers.” The eels were inside the doorway now, their warped skulls weaving slowly back and forth as they took stock of their surroundings.
Low sniffed. “Hey, maybe they don’t like German food.” It was a comment more worthy of the long-absent Borden. Brink looked at his companion in surprise, and Low took note of it. “I always said that I’d try to be upbeat before I died.” New concern brought an unpleasant vision to the forefront of his thoughts.
“I hope Maggie hasn’t run into anything like these and that’s why we haven’t heard from her.” Something caught his eye before the scientist could comment, and he gripped the other man by his shirt. “Over here! Get out of the way!”
“There is no ‘out of the way,'” Brink replied morosely. “We are trapped here and … vas ist mit ihnen los? What’s the matter with you?”
Low had grabbed him and bodily heaved him to one side. A moment later the first eels dug in with their primitive limbs and threw themselves forward. Brink shut his eyes, but it was other quarry the creatures had in mind. Less mobile quarry.
Landing with a great squishing sound they splashed into the nearest of the organic mounds. They were followed in short order by the remaining three. Soon all five were slithering and crawling through the slimy sweepings. The sounds of swallowing, gulping and bones breaking filled the room. Decaying compost was ripped apart.
Low waited, concealing himself and Brink behind another refuse pile until he was certain the creatures were fully occupied. “See? They weren’t after us, per se. They wanted in here. We just happened to get ourselves caught in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“Astute observation, Commander. My congratulations. And now, not to put too fine a scientific point on it, I think it would behoove us to get the hell out of here, nicht wahr?”
Moving slowly so as not to attract undue attention in the event that one or more of the eels might be tempted to try a change in its diet, they slipped out from behind the mess and tiptoed toward the open doorway.
“It doesn’t make any sense,” Low educed when they were finally back on the transport platform. “Why should those creatures be roaming freely around here? What purpose do they serve?”
“Ask a Cocytan.” Acutely conscious of their narrow escape, Brink was in no mood to entertain irrelevant theories. “Come, Commander. As you so accurately put it before our path was crossed, we have another spire to inspect.”
Though unable to put the incident aside, Low did not let it affect his feet. Climbing into the sphere, he sat down next to Brink. The familiar, unupholstered bench felt as comfortable as the plushest couch. A moment later the entrance irised shut and the orb began to roll.
Only then did the two men allow themselves to relax. It had been brought home to them in unmistakable fashion that not everything they were likely to encounter on this world was guaranteed to be benign or inanimate.
“Local vermin.” Brink had leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest.
Low’s brows pulled together. “I beg your pardon?”
“That’s the explanation. Those eel-creatures had no special purpose. After this place was abandoned by its makers, they somehow found their way in. They are simply scavengers, like rats or roaches.”
“The room full of organic debris?”
Brink had an answer for that too. “An ancient repository. Or one that continues to function on automatic. As to the source of the organic material, devoid of information I do not feel justified in speculating further. I can say only that I think it would be best if we continue to watch our step.”
“Amen to that.”
“As we roam deeper into these complexes, we may encounter more such creatures, or even worse.”
“I’ve thought of that.” Low’s fingers itched. “Wish I had a gun.”
“Its usefulness would be debatable. I feel that possession of a gun in dangerous surroundings carries with it a corresponding increase in overconfidence.”
“Fine,” Low swore. “Give me a Mossburg street sweeper and I’ll deal with the overconfidence. Sorry if that’s not showing the proper scientific spirit.”
“Under the circumstances, Commander, I forgive you.” The scientist sighed. “Ever since we stepped outside the asteroid and I saw the first small invertebrate scuttle under a rock, I felt there must be larger, more menacing creatures living here. What could be more natural for them than to take shelter in these numerous chambers?”
“If we find one that can activate the asteroid,” Low murmured, “I’ll gladly feed it a finger or two.” The sphere was picking up speed now, accelerating smoothly along its unsullied track.
CHAPTER 14
“I thought the bipeds handled that rather well.”
The Cocytans had gathered in a cluster above the main island. So dense was the distortion induced by their concentrated presence that no other thought was possible in their immediate vicinity. Confused fliers sank to the ground or flapped dizzily toward the distant mainland, while within the confines of rock and earth, creatures simpler still shuddered and settled deep into their burrows. Only those that were relatively mindless, such as the scavenger-eels, were not affected. Those, and any capable of higher thought, which automatically acted as a shield against the monumental mental presence.
Among the latter could be counted only three, and they had trouble enough to deal with.
Most of the imperceptible visitors were not directly perceiving the bipeds. They were content to allow those who had been involved from the beginning to debate meanings and actions, satisfied to let them interpret and promulgate. There was else to observe, other to contemplate. They paid attention with only a portion of themselves, yet understood with lucid simultaneity. The system was perfectly efficient and historically unfulfilling.