Slimer (7 page)

    

    The next morning Dr Shelley had disappeared. The door to the lab was open but there was no sign of him. They wandered around for awhile calling his name then went back to the level below and had a breakfast of baked beans and coffee in the kitchen they'd used the night before.

    No one had slept much during the night and they all looked pretty tired though Paul was relieved to see that Mark seemed to have made a recovery. His face had lost its unhealthy pallor and he no longer appeared feverish.

    'So who's got any bright ideas?' asked Rochelle as she spooned the last of her large helping of beans into her mouth. She had the biggest appetite of them all but never put on any weight.

    'We go and have another look for Dr Shelley,' said Paul.

    'I don't trust him,' said Alex sullenly. 'He's up to something.'

    'Well, he was right about the animal - this "Charlie" thing,' said Linda. 'It didn't come back again last night.'

    'I'd still give anything to know what it is,' said Paul. 'It must be one of their lab animals but what kind? The sound it made - I never heard any animal make a sound like that before, and we used to live near a zoo when I was a kid.'

    'Perhaps it's a new kind of animal,' said Chris.

    They all looked at her. 'What do you mean?' asked Linda.

    'This place is a secret laboratory, right? Well I think they were carrying out illegal genetic experiments here. And that thing that tried to break into your cabin last night was one of them.'

    'You mean it could be a mutated rat or a giant guinea pig? Hey, come on Chris, that's crazy. You've been reading too much science fiction,' said Mark.

    Paul said carefully, 'I think Chris might have something. I think they were doing genetic engineering experiments here - ones they didn't want anyone to know about. And whatever they made here got out of control.'

    'But what?' asked Mark. 'What were they trying to make?'

    'Only Dr Shelley can answer that.'

    'I think we should get away from this place right now,' said Linda. 'Let's not bother looking for Dr Shelley any more. Let's just get the hell out of here.' There was an edge of desperation in her voice that Paul found disturbing. He reached over and patted her hand.

    Alex sniggered at her. 'And just how are we gonna do that? It's a long swim to Scotland from here.'

    Linda gave him a cold look. 'There are lifeboats. Several of them. I saw them when we first arrived.'

    'But we'd be right back where we started,' pointed out Rochelle. 'I don't fancy being adrift in a little boat again. At least here we're warm and dry and have got lots of food and drink. And toilets.'

    'Their boats are much bigger than ours was. They're enclosed and they've probably got motors too. And we can take plenty of supplies with us.' She turned to Paul. 'What do you think?'

    'It's worth considering,' he said thoughtfully. 'If we can't find Shelley by late afternoon perhaps we should just get in one of the boats and get out of here. I don't like the idea of spending another night on the platform. "Charlie" might get restless again.'

    'Do you know how to launch a lifeboat?' asked Chris doubtfully.

    'No,' he admitted. 'In fact I think I'll go check one of them out right now. Its just occurred to me they might contain emergency radio beacons. It's possible we could send out a distress signal. Anyone want to come with me?' He got to his feet.

    'I will,' said Mark, rising too. 'I could do with some fresh air.'

    'Yeah, you two hotshots go have fun,' said Alex. 'I'll stay here and guard the women.'

    'Huh. And who's going to guard us from you?' asked Linda, only half-jokingly.

    Alex contrived to look pained. 'I'm a very misunderstood person. It's the story of my life.'

    'You'd better watch out your life story doesn't come to an abrupt end,' said Chris coldly.

    He gave her an unpleasant leer. 'Tough talk, baby. You shouldn't speak that way to the guy who does you such big favours. You owe me, kid, and don't forget it.'

    'I owe you? Like hell I do.' Her face began to redden with anger. 'You got paid a hundred times over, you bastard…'

    'Hey, let's get on with it,' said Mark hurriedly and headed towards the door. Puzzled, Paul followed him. Once outside in the corridor he asked Mark what it had all been about. Mark said he had no idea. Paul knew he was lying but didn't pursue the matter. He presumed it had something to do with Chris and Alex coming out of the same room together last night. Whatever was going on meant trouble ahead, simply because it involved Alex, but he didn't have the time to be worried about it now.

    When they emerged onto the catwalk they were surprised to see that the weather had deteriorated badly since their arrival the day before. There was now a strong wind blowing and a sizeable swell. They both stared worriedly at the grey, heaving sea. 'I'm not sure I fancy going boating in that sea,' said Mark finally.

    'Me neither,' said Paul. 'But maybe conditions will have improved by tonight.'

    But when they reached the first of the lifeboats they realised it wouldn't matter if the weather improved or not. The hull of the boat had been smashed in.

    There were five other large lifeboats suspended from various sections of the platform and, as Paul and Mark suspected, they too had been similarly sabotaged.

    'We're trapped here,' said Mark as they surveyed the sixth and final boat. It had several gaping holes in its side. 'Aren't we?'

    Paul picked up the remains of the shattered radio beacon. It had been the same with the other boats - all the beacons had been destroyed. He sighed. 'We're trapped all right. Someone on this rig enjoys our company so much they don't want us to leave.' He threw the pieces of the transmitter back into the boat. 'But we're going to beat them. Somehow.'

    Mark shook his head. 'I don't think so,' he said bleakly. 'I don't think any of us are going to get off this rig alive.'

    

    

    Paul and Mark decided not to go and tell the others about their grim discovery just yet - the bad news could wait until later - instead they resumed the search for Dr Shelley on Level Two. They spent over an hour without result and then Paul suggested they go and have another look at the TV monitoring centre they'd investigated briefly the previous night.

    For a time Paul fiddled with the camera controls, cutting from camera to camera around the platform in the hope that they might spot Shelley, or anyone, on one of the eight monitors but all they got were views of deserted corridors and labs.

    By accident they found themselves, finally, watching the other four who had obviously left the kitchen and were in one of the several recreational rooms on the bottom level. The three women were playing cards in a desultory fashion while Alex sat in front of a TV set sorting through a pile of video cassettes.

    'Gives you a feeling of power, doesn't it, being able to watch someone without them knowing it,' said Mark, staring at the screen.

    'I guess so,' said Paul. 'I just wish there was some kind of "erase" button we could press that would get rid of Alex.'

    'You hate his guts, don't you?'

    'Sure. Don't you too?'

    'If there was a Guinness Book of Shits he'd be Number One,' said Mark, 'I wish we'd never got involved with him.'

    'Yeah, it was a big mistake all right,' agreed Paul. 'Only Linda had the smarts to see through him from the beginning. She warned me against getting mixed up with him but I didn't listen to her.'

    'He wants Linda. You realise that, I hope,' said Mark calmly.

    Paul nodded. 'Yeah. And if he ever so much as touches her I'll kill him.'

    'You mean that, don't you?' said Mark. He sounded impressed.

    Paul looked at him with embarrassment. 'Sounds like something out of a bad movie, but yes, I do mean it.'

    'I wish I had your guts. But I'm weak. I've always been weak but now I'm weaker than ever.'

    'Hey, come on Mark. Don't be so hard on yourself. You're not weak.'

    'Oh yes I am.' He gave a bitter laugh. 'And you don't know the half of it.' He grimaced suddenly and grabbed the console with both hands to steady himself.

    'You okay?' asked Paul, alarmed.

    'Yes,' said Mark shakily, 'just a dizzy spell. I'll be fine.'

    'You should really see a doctor when we get home. I think there's something wrong with you.'

    He laughed again. 'You can say that again. But don't worry. I know what it is. I can handle it. But don't ask me to explain. There's nothing you can do to help. Okay?'

    'Okay,' said Paul reluctantly. 'At least you're looking better today than you were yesterday. You looked awful.'

    'I feel better. And I've stopped seeing things too. For a time there I thought I was going crazy.'

    Paul frowned. 'What do you mean?'

    'You remember I told you about the stuff I found in the overalls up on the crane. The black slime?'

    'Yeah.'

    'Well, I never finished telling you the whole story. It moved, Paul. It poured out of one of the sleeves, ran across the floor of the cabin and went out through an air vent in the back. It actually crawled up the back wall of the cabin to reach the vent, like a kind of liquid worm…'

    Paul stared at him. 'Are you having me on?'

    'No, I swear it Paul. That's what I saw. Or that's what I thought I saw. Of course it must have been a hallucination. I know that now but it really shook me at the time.'

    'Yeah,' said Paul, remembering how shaken he'd looked when he'd come down from the crane. 'But why should you be having hallucinations? Or is that part of what you can't tell me about?'

    Mark nodded. 'I'm afraid so.'

    'Okay, have it your way,' said Paul, a little stiffly. He turned his attention back to the monitors. The girls were still playing cards but Alex was now watching the TV set, obviously having found something he liked among the video cassettes. And knowing him it's probably pornographic, thought Paul sourly.

    But this served to remind him of the racks of video tapes he'd noticed in the control room the day before. He got up and examined them again. 'We might as well start checking this stuff,' he told Mark. 'I just wish they weren't labelled in code.'

    'Take one tape at random from each rack,' suggested Mark. 'We might have some luck.'

    Paul picked out a total of ten tapes and put the first one into the VCR unit that had been built into the console. After some trial-and-error pushing of buttons one of the monitor screens went momentarily blank then began dis-playing the words 'The Phoenix Project - Data File 22/AX/G89812'. This was followed by a visual read-out of technical information most of which Paul couldn't make head nor tail of. There were terms he recognised, however, such as 'recombinant DNA', and 'nucleotides' which confirmed what he had already felt certain was the purpose behind the concealed labs.

    'This proves they were doing genetic engineering experiments here,' he said to Mark.

    'Yes, but it still doesn't tell us what kind of experiment. I mean, for all we know they might have been trying to come up with a new sort of oil-slick eating bug. This place is owned by an oil company, after all.'

    'But if it was all innocent and above board then why did they go to so much trouble to camouflage these labs?' asked Paul.

    'Perhaps they didn't want their competitors to know about it,' suggested Mark. 'They were afraid of industrial espionage or something. There's big money in this game, you know. They patent these artificial bugs the same way they patent new inventions. And that might explain those armed security guards too...'

    'Yes,' said Paul doubtfully, still staring at the screen. Then he pointed at it. 'There's that word again -
Phoenix.
That's definitely the code name for whatever it was they were trying to make…'

    'Phoenix. The mythical bird of fire that was reborn from its own ashes,' said Mark, and suddenly grinned. 'You think maybe they were trying to create a new line in poultry? A chicken that lays square eggs? A chicken that comes automatically covered in a crisp golden batter and in its own cardboard box?'

    'Very funny,' said Paul, scowling. He pressed the 'Fast Forward' button and raced the tape quickly through to its finish. Then he tried another one. It was the same as the first - a visual record of highly specialised scientific data that neither of them could follow.

    It wasn't until they tried the fifth tape that they got some-thing different.

    'Hey, that's Shelley,' cried Mark.

    It was Dr Shelley, looking much the same as he had the previous night. He was talking directly into the camera and from the background they could see that he had made the tape in this very room. Then Paul noticed, for the first time, a small video camera above the console which was almost directly facing him.

    'Turn it up,' urged Mark, 'Let's hear what he's saying.'

    Paul found the volume control. Suddenly Shelley's voice filled the room:

    '...and so I must admit that my initial confidence in our resuming control of the situation seems to have been misplaced. Subsequent events have proved correct the misgivings of Doctors Soames, Jameson and Englefields about our ability to subdue "Charlie". Or should we refer to it as
Phoenix
?' He shook his head wearily. 'In a sense it is the
Phoenix
unit that is behind all this…'

    He paused and groaned as if in pain. Then he closed his eyes and began to rub the sides of his temples. Eventually he continued, 'I feel so tired. But then we all do. No one has dared to sleep fpr the last forty-eight hours now. It can move so fast… We've lost eleven more people since this morning alone. At this rate how much longer will it be before it gets all of us? Durkins, of course, still wants us to call for help but I definitely agree with the others on this - it must be kept isolated at all costs. We cannot risk offering it the means to reach the outside world. Though what will happen if it does destroy us all doesn't bear thinking about…