‘Yes.’ Weaver nodded. ‘I promise.’ What the hell are you talking about? she thought. You can’t promise anything. Not a thing.
Li
The secret laboratory seemed unscathed. The floor was covered with broken glass, but otherwise everything seemed to be in its rightful place. A few monitors flickered in the background.
‘Now, where would he have put those cylinders?’ Li wondered aloud.
She slid her gun back into its holster. The room was deserted. She’d expected to see a blue glow emanating from the miniature tank, but then she remembered that Rubin had tested the toxin - very successfully, as he’d assured her. She peered through one of the portholes. Nothing. No organism. No glow.
Peak wandered among the benches and cabinets. ‘Over here,’ he called.
Li hurried over. A stand had toppled over, leaving a collection of slim, torpedo-shaped cylinders in a heap, each just under a metre long. They picked them up one by one. Two were noticeably heavier than the others, and Li spotted the markings on their sides. Rubin had drawn on them in permanent ink. ‘Look, Sal,’ she said, mesmerised. ‘I’m holding the new world order in my hands.’
‘I see.’ A test-tube rolled off the side of one of the benches and shattered with a tinkle. ‘In that case let’s get the new world order out of here.’
Li let out a peal of laughter. She passed a cylinder to Peak and walked out of the lab with the other. ‘In five minutes’ time I’m going to send the yrr into the underworld for ever, you can depend on it.’
‘Who’re you going to take down with you? Is Mick still alive, do you think?’
‘I don’t give a shit about Mick.’
‘I could come.’
‘Well, that’s incredibly generous of you, Sal, but exactly how were you planning to help? The last thing I need is you bawling your eyes out because you can’t stand the thought of me killing a lump of blue slime.’
‘That’s different and you know it. There’s a hell of a difference between—’
They were almost at the companionway. Someone was approaching from the opposite direction, running with his head down.
‘Leon!’
Anawak stopped abruptly. They were very close. Only the entrance to the companionway lay between them.
‘Jude, Sal…’ Anawak stared at them. ‘What a surprise.’
What a surprise. It was pathetic. The man couldn’t act even though his life depended on it. From the moment Li had looked into his eyes she’d known that Anawak knew everything.
‘Where’ve you been?’ she asked.
‘I’m…Well, I can’t find the others so…’
She was running out of time. Maybe he was looking for his friends, or maybe he was up to something. It didn’t matter. Anawak was in the way.
Li drew her gun.
Flight Deck
Crowe had been behind Shankar as they walked out on to the roof, but then she’d been stopped. ‘Wait there,’ said a man in uniform.
‘But I’ve got to—’
‘You’ll be in the next group.’
Two Super Stallions had left the deck already and two more were waiting beside the island, one parked in front of the other. Shankar turned to her as he ran with the group of soldiers and civilians towards a chopper. The enormous flight deck was sloping more dramatically than ever, but it was so big that it looked as though the foaming, raging sea was tilting, rather than the ship.
‘I’ll see you later,’ shouted Shankar. ‘You’ll be on the next flight.’
Crowe watched as he hurried up the ramp that rose under the tail and into the belly of the Super Stallion. A glacial wind lashed her face. The evacuation was going pretty much to plan. So she’d just have to be patient. But where were the others? Leon, Sigur, Karen…
Maybe they’d left already.
It was a reassuring thought. The hatch closed behind Shankar. The rotors spun faster.
Hull
Barely thirty metres below the flight deck the flood of seawater was pushing up against the bulkheads of the forward cargo compartments and the lower troop berthing. A single torpedo floated in the water. It had been released when the submersible exploded but its charge hadn’t detonated. That was unusual, but by no means unheard of. After being propelled by the water into one of the munitions magazines, it had sunk into a metal storage cage that had been partially wrenched out of position and now was shifting up and down in the darkness. It rolled gently from side to side, advancing centimetre by centimetre, in line with the vessel’s inclination.
The bulkheads stood firm, but the cage screeched and groaned with the pressure. The struts to which it was still attached began to buckle under the strain. Fine fracture lines opened in the steel of the magazine’s wall. One of the sturdy attachment bolts was being dragged out of its fixing, its thread stripping under the strain…
With an almighty bang it was free.
The tension that had been building was instantaneously released. The cage jerked up, as the bolts shot out and the partition collapsed. In the turmoil, the torpedo was catapulted towards a spot that bordered on the cargo holds at the bow, the vast living quarters for the marines and the empty vehicle deck below the lab.
It was one of the most sensitive intersection points on the ship.
This time the explosive didn’t fail.
03 LEVEL
‘No,’ said Peak. He dropped the cylinder and turned his gun on Li. ‘You can’t do that.’
Li’s pistol was still trained on Anawak. ‘Sal, I’ve had enough of your insubordination,’ she hissed.
‘Put the gun down.’
‘For Christ’s sake, Sal! I’ll have you court-martialled, I’ll—’
‘On the count of three I’m going to shoot. I’m serious, Jude. I’m not going to stand by and let you keep killing people. Now, put the gun down. One…Two…’
Li exhaled noisily and lowered it. ‘Are you happy now?’
‘Drop it.’
‘Why don’t we just talk this over and—’
‘Drop it!’
An expression of pure hatred filled Li’s eyes. The weapon clattered to the deck.
Anawak glanced at Peak. ‘Thanks,’ he said, and bounded to the companionway. He disappeared down it and his footsteps faded. Li swore.
‘General Commander Judith Li,’ Peak said solemnly, ‘I’m relieving you of your command on the grounds of insanity. From now on you will follow my orders. You may—’
The ship gave a terrible lurch and plunged forward. Peak thudded down, rolled over and scrambled up. Where was his gun? Where was Li?
‘Sal!’ Li was kneeling in front of him. She raised the gun.
Peak froze. ‘Jude.’ He shook his head. ‘Listen, Jude…’
‘Moron,’ said Li, and pulled the trigger.
Flight Deck
Crowe swayed. The deck tipped even further. Rotors thudding, the Super Stallion carrying Shankar and the others skidded into the helicopter parked in front of it. Its engine roared as it lifted up and tried to pull away.
Crowe caught her breath. No, she thought. This can’t be happening. Not now. Not when they were so close to being saved.
There were screams as people crashed to the ground or started running. She was pulled along by the crowd, then lost her balance. Sprawled on the deck, she saw the Super Stallion lift away from the stationary chopper. One of the window-mounted machine-guns struck its tail. It started to heel.
The Stallion was out of control.
She leaped to her feet. Gripped with panic she ran.
Bridge
Buchanan couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He’d been hurled without warning against his captain’s chair, with its comfortable arm-and footrests. Everyone envied him that chair: it was a cross between Captain Kirk’s command chair and a bar stool. Equipment flew across the room. Buchanan dragged himself up and dived towards the side window, in time to see one of the Super Stallions pitch slowly to one side. It was stuck.
‘Everyone
out of here!’ he yelled.
People were fleeing the bridge now, but he watched as the trapped helicopter kept tipping.
Suddenly it broke free and rose into the air.
Buchanan gulped. For a moment it seemed that the pilot was back in control. But the chopper was at an impossible tilt, the tail sticking vertically into the air. The engine screamed louder, then the Super Stallion hurtled towards him, rotors first.
With a total loaded weight of over thirty-three tonnes, and carrying nine thousand litres of fuel, the aircraft crashed into the bridge and transformed the front of the island into a blazing inferno. A ball of flame shot through the superstructure, charring the furniture, causing monitors to blow out and bulkheads to tear open. It bore down on the fleeing figures, incinerating them as it swept down the passageways into the heart of the island.
Flight Deck
Crowe was running for dear life. Burning debris rained from above. She raced towards the stern. The Independence was at such an angle now that she had to run uphill, which induced a fit of wheezing. Over the last few years her lungs had taken in more cigarette smoke than fresh air. And she’d always thought she’d die of lung cancer.
She stumbled and skidded over the asphalt. As she picked herself up she saw that the entire front section of the island had disappeared in flames. The second helicopter was burning too. People were running across the deck, human torches crashing to the ground. It was a horrific sight, but more horrifying was the certainty that she no longer stood a chance of escaping from the sinking ship.
Balls of fire rose over the vessel as violent explosions shook it. Then there was a deafening bang, followed by a shower of sparks only metres from her feet.
Shankar had died in the inferno.
That wasn’t what she wanted for herself.
She darted towards the stern, without the faintest idea of what she would do when she got there.
03 LEVEL
Li swore. She still had a torpedo under her arm, but the second had rolled out of sight. It had either fallen down the companionway or was sliding down the corridor towards the bow. And all because of that asshole Peak.
She stepped over the body, still trying to decide whether to make do with just one torpedo. But what if it didn’t eject the toxin?
Straining her eyes, she peered down the passageway.
Suddenly she heard an incredible roar above her. This time the vessel shook even more violently. She was flung backwards, and slid down the passageway on her back. She had to get out. This was no longer just about seeing through the mission - to survive she needed the Deepflight.
The torpedo slipped out of her grip.
‘Shit!’
She made a grab for it, but it clattered away. If it had been packed with explosive, it would have detonated by now. Instead it was full of liquid - enough to wipe out an entire intelligent race.
She braced her arms and legs, and a few seconds later she stopped sliding, aching as though she’d been bludgeoned with an iron rod. She used the wall to push herself up and looked around.
The second torpedo had vanished too.
She could have screamed.
The noises from the flood waters sounded alarmingly close and she could hear cracking and banging from above. There wasn’t much time.
She stood still. There was no mistaking it. It was getting warmer.
She had to find those torpedoes.
Lab
The young soldier had been right behind them, gun at the ready, when the blast rocked the lab. They all splashed into the water. As Weaver surfaced, there was another almighty bang overhead. Then the lights went out and she was staring into darkness.
‘Sigur?’ she called.
No answer.
‘MacMillan?’
‘Over here.’
Her feet touched the deck. She was up to her chest in water. Why now? She’d almost got hold of one of the bodies…Something prodded her shoulder and her hand whipped up. A boot - and inside it a leg.
‘Karen?’
Johanson was somewhere close by. Little by little her eyes adjusted to the darkness. Without warning the emergency lighting flashed on, illuminating the laboratory with a red glow. She saw the outline of Johanson’s head protruding from the water. ‘This way!’ she called. ‘I need a hand.’
A dull roar came from above as well as below. The lab was getting warmer. Johanson appeared beside her.
‘Who is it?’
‘No idea. Just help me shift it.’
‘We’ve got to get out,’ MacMillan said breathlessly. ‘Hurry.’
‘We’re just coming, we’re—’
‘Hurry!’
Weaver’s eyes were drawn to the far end of the lab.
A faint blue glow.
Then a flash.
She tightened her grip on the body and fought through the water to the door. Johanson had the dead man’s arm. Or was it a woman? Weaver prayed that it wasn’t poor Sue. She trod on something that slid away to one side. Her head disappeared under water.
Eyes wide she stared into the darkness. Something was snaking towards her. It bore down on her rapidly like a long, glittering eel. No, not an eel. More like an enormous headless worm. And it wasn’t alone.
Her head shot up. ‘Let’s get out of here.’
Johanson yanked at the corpse. Below the surface a tangle of swarming tentacles had appeared. MacMillan raised his gun. Weaver felt something slide past her ankle.
In a flash, feelers were winding themselves round her body, crawling upwards. She tore at them, trying to prise them off. Then Johanson was beside her, digging his fingers under the tentacles, but he might as well have been trying to free her from an anaconda.
The creature was pulling her backwards.
Creature? It wasn’t one creature she was fighting but billions. Billions and billions of amoebas.
‘It’s no good!’ Johanson gasped.
The jelly slid over her chest, and she was pushed back under the water. The glow was brighter now. At the far end of the tentacles a large mass was approaching. The main body of the organism.
She fought to the surface. ‘MacMillan,’ she gurgled.
The soldier raised his gun.
‘It’s no use shooting,’ screamed Johanson. ‘It won’t help.’
All of a sudden MacMillan seemed calm. He took aim, keeping his sights on the mass of jelly as it moved through the water. ‘Oh, this’ll help, all right,’ he said.
There was a dry staccato sound as he fired.
‘This always helps.’
The volley pierced the organism. Water sprayed in all directions. MacMillan fired a second round, and the creature was blasted to shreds. Clumps of jelly whirled through the air. Suddenly Weaver was free. Johanson grasped the body, and together they pulled it frantically through the water, picking up speed as the water level sank. The ship was tilting more drastically than ever now, prompting most of the water to collect at the bow end of the lab. The area around the door was almost dry. They hurried up the slope, careful not to slip, until suddenly the water was only ankle deep.
They heaved the body out on to the ramp. Weaver was almost sure she’d heard a muffled cry.
‘MacMillan?’
She stuck her head back around the door. ‘MacMillan? Where are you?’
The glowing organism was aggregating again. There was no sign of tentacles. The creature was now a flat sheet.
‘Close the door,’ Johanson shouted. ‘It could still get out. There’s water everywhere.’
‘MacMillan?’
Weaver gripped the doorframe and stared into the room, but the soldier was gone. He hadn’t made it.
A thin, glowing tendril approached. She leaped back and hit the switch for the door. The tendril rushed forward, but the door snapped shut.
Experiments
Anawak had been climbing down a companionway when the blast rocked the boat. Now his breath was coming in gasps and his knee hurt. He swore. He’d had trouble with
that knee ever since the crash in the seaplane, and then Vanderbilt had kicked it.
The only way to the well deck now was via the vehicle ramp leading down from the hangar bay. He turned and went up until he was on the right level to get to the ramp. It got steadily warmer as he ascended. What was happening up there? He stumbled on to the hangar deck and saw thick black smoke pouring through the gateways from the elevators.
Suddenly he heard someone calling for help.
He took a few steps into the hangar. ‘Is anyone there?’ he shouted.
It was hard to see anything: the pale yellow lights weren’t strong enough to penetrate the dark smoke. But he could hear the voice clearly now.
It was Crowe.
‘Sam?’ Anawak ran part-way through the sooty cloud. He stopped to listen. ‘Sam? Where are you?’
No answer.
He waited for a moment, then turned and ran towards the ramp. He didn’t notice until too late that it was now as steep as a chute. His legs gave way and he thudded downwards, praying that at least some of the syringes would survive. At the bottom, he splashed into a pool of water that cushioned his fall. He shook himself, crawled out on all fours and saw Weaver and Johanson walking away from the lab, dragging a body in the direction of the well deck.
Ahead, the floor was covered with a thin film of water.
Of course! The basin had been full of water, which was now streaming into the passageway. If the ship tilted any further this whole compartment would flood.
They had to hurry.
‘I’ve got the syringes,’ he shouted after them.
Johanson glanced round. ‘About time.’
‘Who’ve you got?’ Anawak ran to catch up with them, and looked down at the body.
Rubin.
Flight Deck
Crouched at the far end of the roof Crowe watched the island go up in smoke.
A man with Pakistani features was lying next to her, shaking all over and dressed in a cook’s uniform. Either they were the only ones to have run in this direction, or no one else had made it. The man coughed and sat up.
‘This is what happens when intelligent species disagree,’ Crowe told him.
He stared at her as though she had three heads.