The Tea Machine (6 page)

CHAPTER 7

“This wall is sticky.” Millicent
squinted at the ooze squeezing through her fingers.

“The metal is corroding. Squid stink rots everything. A perfectly good ship starts to mold like an old sock once one of these buggers gets on it.”

Oh dear, another B word. How many are there?
“I’m not sure squid stink is the correct terminology. But it is less corrosive than the gore those poor people are lying in.” She nodded at the human waste of war almost twenty feet below, though her vertigo did not allow her to look. The soldier glanced back at the dissolving cadavers.

“That’s squid blood. It’s like acid. You better be dead when you hit it. This stuff,” she flicked the tackiness from her fingers, “it corrodes the fabric of the ship, metals, alloys, and all sorts of wiring. Weapons, too,” she said. “The squid somehow adapt the atmosphere to suit them and wreck anything manmade. But the stink alone doesn’t melt flesh, just metal. Keep moving.” She gave a sharp cough. Millicent could feel the corrosive air tickling at her own lungs. There was a sour, metallic taste in her mouth. She felt contaminated. This enemy invaded on every level.

Her plan was working. They were edging along the wall high enough up to keep out of the line of squid vision and any haphazard weapon fire from the deck below.

“It
is
a Mesonychoteuthis, and so it has binocular vision!” She was pleased to discover her guess had been correct. This greatly increased their chances, especially as the creature was currently focused on a series of loud explosions on the other side of the hangar.

“Thought you were the expert.” The soldier was setting up a brisk pace, forcing her to hurry when she really wanted to pause and observe. The beast was fascinating this close up.

“Hardly an expert.” She watched the drift of colour fusing across its bulbous mantle. The subtle texture of the skin, with its map work of dark, pulsating blood vessels crisscrossing under the epidermis, mesmerized her. “It’s so beautiful.”

The soldier snorted. “Only a scientist would find these buggers beautiful. What do you do with them in the lab? Are you working on that infant we caught off Scorpius Major?”

“When you say laboratory, do you—Oomph.” Her foot slipped, and she nearly toppled. The soldier grabbed for her, pushing her back up onto the bulkhead.

“Thank you,” Millicent muttered into the metal. She was flustered; the soldier’s hand rested on her waist in a most inappropriate manner. The heat from her palm seeped through Millicent’s clothing, and her face flushed in what she knew was a most unbecoming manner. She quickly regained her grip and waited for the soldier to relinquish her hold, but she was slow to do so.

“Careful. Can’t go losing the brains of the outfit. I’m here to round you up and herd you home. The senate hates losing its clever clogs,” she said. They were coming up to a badly corroded section. She kicked at the crumbling metal edge and frowned.

“This stretch is bad.” Her grip on Millicent’s waist tightened. She seemed totally unaware of any discomfort. Millicent wiggled a little to try and dislodge her hand when, much to her mortification, the soldier swung behind her, cupping her entire body with her larger one. The woman was exceptionally tall, and her long limbs easily encased Millicent on either side. Heat flew to her face, and she could feel the tips of her ears scorch. No one had ever pressed against her that way. The soldier smelled strongly of sweat and a sharp nitrous odour she put down to some sort of gunfire residue. Her uniform with its elaborate straps and buckles was torn and scorched and smelled coppery with blood. She’d noted the limp earlier, and now Millicent wondered how many other wounds the soldier had.

“We’ll go slow, okay.” Her voice rumbled just above Millicent’s head. “I don’t want you to fall.” Then she felt the press of the soldier’s chest against her back. Millicent gripped the vibrating metal with white-knuckled fingers. Her toes curled in her light house shoes for extra purchase. Falling was not the immediate problem. She could feel the stir of the soldier’s breath against her scalp, and heat radiated off her into Millicent’s spine and hips. She puffed a strand of loose hair out of her eyes, hoping to cool her burning cheeks. What on earth was this soldier thinking, squashing a lady like this? It was very improper, even if she was trying to save her from the morass below.

“This is a complete overreaction,” she said. “I can manage perfectly well.”

“No, you can’t. Not over this next bit. Let’s go.” There was no more discussion, the soldier began an awkward crablike shuffle, edging them slowly past the Colossal’s mantle. A tentacle flailed by, too close for comfort. The soldier flattened her body against Millicent, knocking her against the bulwark so hard it took her breath away. The air around them roiled, then whooshed. Millicent closed her eyes, certain they’d be swept to their doom but the huge barbed club sailed on leaving them to exhale softly with relief.

“Hold still,” the soldier whispered directly into her ear.

“Of course I’ll hold still. I can barely move. You’re squashing me.” She was indignant. It was the only way to cope with her fear and the annoying fluster the woman soldier threw her into.

“Sorry.” She eased back a bit, but not much. “Nearly there.”

“We’re at the exit?” Millicent peeped out from under her arm. Up ahead she could see what she hoped was the exit. A green glow flashed erratically over huge metal doors that shuddered open and slammed shut in manic malfunction. The wall they clung to vibrated with each slam of the doors and made her fingers ache. She desperately hoped they’d soon be free of the hangar. Her body was weakening, and the enforced proximity to this strange woman wasn’t helping her concentration any. With a grunt, the soldier started up their crablike creep again.

It was a relief when they finally reached the exit light. The descent to the floor was tricky, though. The climb up had been easy compared to this. For one thing, they were closer to the creature, and she was very aware of a stagnant dampness that oozed from its moist, semi-translucent skin. It lost some of its beauty now she was alongside it. The chill stink of death and decay saturated her throat and sinuses, and she could almost taste its vile ink. The air was so cold and clammy it clung to her skin and made her shiver with discomfort. She was afraid. It was the old, primordial fight-or-flight fear, and she was glad the woman beside her was making the decisions for her.

The soldier went first and guided her down the bulwark step by step. She was grateful for it, as the fullness of her skirts did not permit her to see where she was putting her feet. The noise was incredible; with each step she was descending into a nightmare. The floor trembled violently under her when she finally reached it. It was like stepping onto an earthquake. Her vision blurred, and her head ached with the endless cacophony of screams and weapon fire. The ceaseless hammer of squid arms breaking the hangar to bits was driving her close to madness. Millicent felt nauseous and disorientated and was nearing the point of exhaustion, both mentally and physically.

The soldier grabbed her hand and hauled her unceremoniously through the slamming exit doors and into a murky, ill-lit corridor. The air here was a little more breathable, and she sucked it in with great gulps.

“I…I didn’t realize how dizzy I was getting back there.”

“Squid stink rots your head. If you’re in it too long you get confused and make mistakes. We have face masks for it, but they fall apart in no time.”

“Do you mean a sort of gaseous hallucinogenic? Or maybe a phosphorus based poisoning of the nervous system?”
How interesting.
These squid had a gruesome arsenal.

“I mean it makes you stupid. Now come on,” she said. Millicent remembered the soldier’s wild-eyed stare when she’d materialized beside her, and now doubted that she was the primary reason for it. The soldier could easily have been in the thrall of “squid stink,” as she so succinctly put it. Her gaze was much more focused now that they were in cleaner air. Her eyes were gunmetal grey, hard and flinty, and for the moment, squinting cautiously into the gloom ahead. Once again she grabbed Millicent by the hand and drew her along behind, keeping to the shadows.

Despite her earlier misgivings, Millicent clung to her hand. The corridor was wide with a low ceiling and sweeping bends, and the slam and slide of broken doors clanged along the length of it. Smoke hung in lazy pockets, pierced by tiny red and green lights blinking randomly from melted electrical panels. Overhead, the lighting strips flickered weakly, distressing the walls with long, eerie shadows. It became clearer to her by the second that Hubert’s machine had deposited her not only in the middle of a weird, interspecies war, but also considerably into the future. If she ever got home again, he was so going to hear about this.

She watched how carefully the soldier moved, her body tense and on full alert.

“Are there more?” she whispered nervously.

“Yup, there’s always more. We beat them off, but they always sneak back in.”

“Oh dear.” She glanced about anxiously.

“We should be okay here for a while. We cleared the Beta deck when we got your lot out.”

“My lot?” She frowned and took a deep breath. This was going to be a difficult question. “Why do you think I belong to this ship?”

But the soldier wasn’t listening. Instead she raised a finger to her lips for silence. Millicent strained to hear what had caught her attention. From around a corner came a sharp click, then another, and another, and then someone said in disgusted exasperation, “Ah, fuckamo, fuckamas, fuckamant.”

The soldier let go of her hand and stepped forward around the corner. “Gallo?” she said. “That you?”

“Well, blow my war horn, Sangfroid, is that you?” came the answer.

Intrigued, Millicent followed. She saw another soldier crouched over an abandoned pile of weaponry.

“Sangfroid! Hey, you made it!” This was followed by a happy guffaw. The soldiers collided in a rough, shoulder-slapping embrace.

Sangfroid?
So that was the name of her rescuer. Millicent watched the comradery from a polite distance, all the time glancing over her shoulder for sneaking squid.

“Well, I managed to make it back to where we started,” Sangfroid said ruefully, and stepped back. “Maybe not the smartest move. What about you? Why are you grubbing around out here?”

It was only when the soldiers separated that Millicent realized Gallo was a woman, too. Another giantess! Wherever this place was, her gender had come a long way.

Gallo held up two handguns from the pile of discards at her feet. At least Millicent assumed they were handguns. They were very complex weaponry but similar to the one she had seen Sangfroid throw away in disgust.

“These fuckers are still juiced.” Gallo grinned.

Millicent pinched the bridge of her nose.
Oh, dear. I think I may have an F word to add to the list. Perhaps I should start a lexicon?

“Excellent.” Sangfroid grabbed one from her.

“Hey. Where’d ya get the frock?” Gallo nodded at Millicent, who bristled at the impolite tone. She had similarly noted Gallo’s strange attire but had thought it not polite to pass comment. Gallo was almost as tall as Sangfroid. She had mannish short, dark hair and a swarthy Mediterranean type complexion. She was dressed in a similar, equally grubby uniform. It underscored her leanness of hip and rather unfeminine shape. Millicent recoiled from her catty thoughts with a stab of shame. She should be above such demeaning judgment of another woman’s figure. Even if the woman was rude.

“She’s a scientist.” Sangfroid jerked a thumb at Millicent. “We need to get her to the Kappa pods.” Her casualness annoyed Millicent immensely, almost as much as Gallo’s rudeness. She felt like a parcel that had to be delivered rather than another human trying to survive the same living nightmare.

“She looks weird, even for a scientist.” Gallo frowned at Millicent’s dress. “Teeny wee thing, too.”

“Excuse me.” Millicent straightened her back. “I happen to be the average height for an English woman, and furthermore I—”

“Don’t get her talking.” Sangfroid turned her back on them both and looked along the darkened corridor. “Any idea what’s up there, Gallo?”

“Well, really.” Millicent had never seen such ill-mannered behaviour.

“Bastards are creeping back,” Gallo said. They both ignored her.

That did it! Millicent reached for her reticule and drew out a small notebook with attached pencil. She was going to keep a record of this insolence and report it to their commanding officer—if she ever had a chance to meet him! She jotted down Gallo’s latest obscenity. Between them they had the manners of the gutter, and it would be addressed later.

“They’re really determined to crack this deck. Rest of the ship is still intact last I heard.” Gallo said.

“Your comm-piece still up?” Sangfroid asked, surprised. “Why do you think it’s only this deck?”

Gallo shook her head. “Lost it ages ago. Melted like butter. And I don’t know why they’re concentrating on this deck, but they want it.” She turned to face the hanger Sangfroid and Millicent had come from and readied her gun. “Okay, I’m up for it.”

Sangfroid shook her head. “No go. It’s a big bastard and it’s bedded in for the foreseeable.” She nodded in the opposite direction. “We’re heading for Kappa,” her voice brooked no opposition, “via the labs.”

“The labs.” Gallo looked uncomfortable with this idea. “Aw, man.”

Sangfroid nodded at Millicent. “It’s okay. We got a brainiac to lead us through.”

Gallo still didn’t look happy. “I hate the labs,” she said glumly.

Sangfroid nodded at the hangar doors. “We’re mincemeat if we go back there.”

Gallo’s frown turned to a mutinous scowl.

“Plus, it’s an order,” Sangroid added, her voice taking on an edge that reminded them all who was in command.

“Aye, Decanus.” Gallo turned towards the labs in a huff.

Decanus?
Millicent struggled with the word. It was Sangfroid’s military rank, she supposed. She had heard her called that earlier, through what she now realized were their communication objects. Her fingers itched to draw the small wired box away from Sangfroid’s ear and examine it. How fascinating. Hubert would love it here if it were not so deadly.