Sam nodded. “Just before everything went to shit.”
“Yes.” Russell waved his hand in front of himself, making the fog swirl. “This has got to be where the gas is emanating from. Whatever is inside that space rock, it’s reacting with the Earth’s atmosphere, oxidizing somehow, and creating a chemical imbalance and biological reaction.” He craned forward and his brows pulled together. “What the hell is that?”
Alex turned, but the three Russians seemed to close ranks even more. Whatever was inside was more important to the Russians than worrying about the HAWCs.
“Hey, step aside,” Alex demanded.
Sam came and stood at his shoulder. “You heard the man, step the hell aside.”
One of the Russians turned; his totally dark eyes seemed to swim as if he was drugged. Sam stepped up, grabbed his shoulder and tugged him back a step. The Russian seemed in a trance, and even though Sam had pulled him back another few feet, he just turned once again to the rock.
“They’ve zoned out.” Sam looked down at the rock, and then staggered back. “What the hell?”
Alex felt his skin crawl. The surface of the dark purplish rock glittered with some sort of crystalline composition, but there was a rent in its side, and a cavity where within its depths something throbbed with a revolting life. It looked like a giant blob of mucus-covered jelly.
“Looks like a freaking brain,” Sam said and lifted his weapon.
The biggest of the Russians, Zlatan he had said his name was, spun, and then stepped in front of Sam. “No!”
Alex looked from the blob to the Russian. The huge man stared, large eyes now almost lidless. His other men still stood staring down at the glistening blob of jelly, as if its rhythmic beating transfixed them.
Alex pointed with his gun. “What is it?”
“I, I don’t know.” The Russian shrugged massive lumped shoulders. “I can’t explain. But it’s calling to us.”
“Calling to you? To do what?” Sam asked.
Zlatan turned his huge browed forehead. “To join with it…” He shook his head slowly. “It sings.” He lapsed into silence.
Russell tried to edge closer, but found it difficult to move past the Russians. He settled for holding out a long slim probe. We waved aside the gas that was rising from it. “I think this is also where the mold is coming from. It’s the source of both the atmosphere change and the growth.” He indicated where the slime-coated cavity was spilling some of its contents to the floor.
“Looks like we found our genesis point,” Alex said.
Casey snorted. “This shuttle crashed less than three days ago. And already this crap has spread over several miles. What in the world grows like that?”
Russell retreated a few steps. “Well actually, some molds can spread below forest floors for hundreds of miles.” He turned back. “But you’re right, nothing at all spreads at this rate.” He looked up. “On this world anyway.”
Alex grunted. “It’s affecting everything and everyone here that’s been exposed to it.” He looked again at Zlatan, and then at the fragment. “We need to destroy it.”
Zlatan and his men spun then, and stood shoulder to shoulder, forming a wall of flesh in front of it.
Sam lowered his brow. “Seems our new buddies might have a problem with that.”
Casey pointed at them. “And I have a fucking problem with them.”
“We just want the satellite data.” Alex looked at each of the hulking, deformed men — they seemed even bigger and more monstrous. He was still prepared to take them on, but knew now there’d be a good chance his team could get a tear in their suits, and end up exposed like the Russians.
Zlatan continued to stare with his lidless black eyes. “They’ll be coming back soon.”
Alex looked to the makeshift barriers over the hole in the bay area wall. “You’ve sealed them out.”
“We put a few holes in them,” said Casey. “They’ll think twice about trying anything again soon.”
“They haven’t gone anywhere,” Zlatan said. He pointed to a pile of bones and cloth material heaped in the corner. “Because this is their home.”
Alex saw the wads of insulating foam rubber, soiled and torn spacesuit material, and other debris, and he knew Zlatan was right.
Alex felt the urgency burning inside him. “We just want the…”
Zlatan turned away from him, staring toward the makeshift barrier. “And now, you have only minutes before they return.”
“Oh god.” Russell started to edge back toward the door to the command cabin. “We need to leave.”
“Boss, we can’t fight ’em all.” Sam kept his eyes on the Russians. “Live to fight another day.”
The buzzing in Alex’s head grew louder, more insistent. The Russians parted slightly and Sam made a guttural sound in his throat. “Ah… that thing.” He lifted his arm in front of his face to shield it.
Alex turned to the meteorite fragment and grimaced. The foul, pulsating sack inside quivered slightly. He could feel a tingling running through his stomach and tickling in his head — he didn’t like it.
“Let’s get out of here; that thing is giving off some sort of wave-like pulse and it’s giving me the creeps.”
Casey pointed with two fingers at the throbbing entity. “We should just fucking destroy—” She abruptly stopped and a bewildered look came over her. “What did I…?”
The weird buzzing deep inside Alex’s head rose to become like a blizzard of noise. He turned to Casey, and was about to ask what she meant, when he simply… forgot.
He gritted his teeth, blocking it out. Sam was right; if they engaged, they’d struggle just to take down the Russians. But what if the Morg decided to bust in while they were locked in? They wouldn’t survive being attacked by both groups.
Alex pointed at Zlatan. “Enjoy the satellite data while you can.” He started to back toward the door. “You aren’t going home anyway.”
Alex and the team crept out, as Zlatan and his men turned back to the glowing asteroid fragment. Alex paused to watch them for a moment; the frightening thing was Zlatan had said the weird blob had sung to him.
Now Alex could hear it too.
CHAPTER 30
“Proceed,” Jack Hammerson said, not able to take his eyes off the thing on the stainless-steel table.
Doctor Phillip Hertzog nodded from within his sealed suit, and stared back down at the grotesque cadaver.
“Amazing,” he said softly, moving up to the head. Using two fingers, he pointed to the forehead. “You see these?” He indicated some darkening discs around the two standard eyes.
“I do,” Jack Hammerson said, moving a little closer, and rolling slick shoulders. He hated wearing the high-grade biological suits, as even with their own air-con units, they were as uncomfortable as hell.
“I think they’re the beginning of additional ocular organs.”
“Extra eyes?” Hammerson remained impassive.
“Oh yes.” Hertzog looked up. “The ultimate predatory advantage. Multiple eyes exist in a few other deadly hunters as well — the spider has eight, of course. But also, the praying mantis has five eyes — two large compound ones and three smaller ones in the center of its head.”
Hammerson just nodded, and Hertzog turned back to the corpse, picked up a probe and prized open the lips. “No human teeth remaining.” He pushed down, causing the jaw to distend like a gaping fish. On either side of the mouth, there looked to be odd growths. “And these look like the beginning of maxillipeds — usually only see these on crabs or insects.” He whistled. “Amazing.”