Warblegrub and the Forbidden Planet (4 page)

Followed by his guards, Warblegrub went and sat apart, his heart heavy. He still had a fondness for humans, despite all the terrible things they had done.
“He’ll lead them all to destruction!”
he said to himself.

“Did you say ‘destruction’?”

The voice was a whisper on the breeze and only Warblegrub heard it. He glanced at the mountain and, close to the summit, saw a bright red light flash.

“Too late,” he muttered.

“What did you say?” asked Private 749.

“Toilet,” replied Warblegrub hastily. “I need to go to the toilet.”

Chapter Five

395 removed the probe from its case and placed it carefully on top of a flat stone. Resembling a dragonfly, it had a longer body and more powerful wings than the one Warblegrub had destroyed, and the company watched in admiration as the Science Officer’s elegant creation rose to head height and hovered silently.

“Impressive,” observed Warblegrub, wandering over with his guards in tow, “and so life-like!”

“It’s camouflaged so as not to attract attention,” 395 replied.

“That’s not mere camouflage.”

“What do you mean?”

“That’s craftsmanship! It requires empathy, understanding. Camouflage is deception.”

Secretly pleased by the compliment, 395 looked down at the tablet and checked the data feed from the probe. Satisfied, he sent it on its way. As they watched the view from its camera, they were joined by the Colonel, who dismissed Warblegrub’s guards but permitted the prisoner to remain.

The probe followed the ridgeline for more than a kilometre, over barren rocks and back down into the shadows of the forest, before climbing steeply up the mountainside. The summit was hidden in clouds that seemed to be gathering there with no regard for the direction of the wind, and soon only the vague shapes of rocks and boulders were visible to the watchers round the tablet. The probe was close to the summit when a dark shape filled the screen, and 395 thought he glimpsed jaws full of sharp teeth closing before the screen went blank.

“What was that?” demanded the Colonel.

“No idea.”

“What did you see?”

395 shrugged. “Some kind of animal, I think.”

The Colonel turned to Warblegrub. “What’s up there?”

“Hard to describe really, you’d have to meet him.”

“Is it hostile?” asked 395.

“He can be rather bad tempered at times.”

“
He?
What is it – human, mammal, reptile?”

Warblegrub considered this, then shrugged. “As I said, you’d have to meet him.”

The Sergeant looked worried when ordered to take a detail and investigate, and received a reprimand for failing to salute. Warblegrub shed a tear as he watched them set off; he had sensed that the Sergeant was a compassionate man and the one most likely to question the Colonel’s orders. Soon after they began the ascent to the summit, the Sergeant and his party were lost in the clouds, and soon after that their radios, cameras and monitoring equipment began to malfunction.

395 tested the radio again. “Are you receiving me?”

“Receiving you, over.”
But the Sergeant’s reply was faint, almost lost in static, and 395 needed to plug in a headset to hear him.

“Testing cameras.”

The picture from the Sergeant’s camera was also poor and his companions were barely visible. At a touch, the screen divided into six similar views; at another, the pictures were replaced by wavy lines and fluctuating numbers, but the screen kept flickering.

“Vital signs – signal also weak but confirmed.”

“What are the lines and numbers?” asked Warblegrub.

“Heart rate, blood pressure and so on,” 395 explained as they flickered on and off, then stabilised again. “They show the strain on the body. Every member of the company’s monitored here….”

“What’s happening!” interrupted the Colonel. “Is it the cloud?”

395 shook his head. “Cloud wouldn’t cause this much interference.”

“Show me the Sergeant’s camera again,” the Colonel snapped, but the image was even more vague than before. After a heavy burst of static, the screen went blank and both radio and radar died.

“What’s going on?” he asked Warblegrub.

“You’re not welcome here.”

“What’s that creature doing?”

“It’s not doing anything – you’re making him angry!”

“But how’s it interfering with our equipment?” asked 395.

Warblegrub shrugged. “You’re the scientist!”

The blackout continued for a quarter of an hour then, just as the Colonel was about to send out a search party, gunfire echoed round the mountainside and the radio crackled back into life. 395 was unable to hear the Sergeant clearly, but he caught the panic in his voice. Snatching the headset, the Colonel tried to talk to the Sergeant but his reply was inaudible.

“Repeat that, over.”

Suddenly the Sergeant’s voice came through loud and clear, and all those nearby heard it as never before – shrill with fear.

“4129’s gone, Sir!”

“Gone?”

“The creature in the mist….”

Another burst of static was followed by silence and despite 395’s efforts there was nothing more from the Sergeant. He checked the vital signs and, when the screen stopped flickering for a moment, confirmed that Private 4129 was no longer alive.

“Where are they?”

“Hard to tell, Sir – radar’s still down. On a ledge below the summit, I think.”

The Colonel quickly sent ten more soldiers to the Sergeant’s aid but before they were out of sight, the radio came back to life.

“It’s hunting us!”
the Sergeant whimpered.

“Hunting you?”

The Sergeant began to curse but his voice was drowned out by gunfire.

“He’ll kill you all!” Warblegrub warned, as the company gazed in horror up into the white shroud that veiled the mountaintop and hid their comrades.

“Fall back to a better position and wait for reinforcements!” the Colonel ordered the Sergeant, and moments later rocks and boulders appeared on the tablet, seen through the thinning mist.

As the Sergeant’s detail descended, scrambling down a steep rocky gully, the signal stabilized and the images became clearer. Back among the trees, they reached an outcrop of weathered rocks and the Sergeant called a halt. Exhausted and terrified, the company took cover on and around the rocks, and their laboured breathing was loud and clear over the radio.

“What was it?” asked 395.

“Some kind of animal,”
the Sergeant whispered,
“extremely hostile!”

“Feline, canine?”

“Something else – I can’t describe it!”

“Told you so,” muttered Warblegrub.

The Colonel shot him a glance. “Help’s on the way,” he promised. “Sit tight!”

The whole company waited with bated breath but the minutes passed with no sign of danger.

“I think we lost it,”
said the Sergeant after what seemed like an age.

“Perhaps you’ve left its territory,” suggested 395.

Warblegrub resisted the urge to intervene.
“They only learn the hard way!”
he reminded himself and remained silent.

“Take a look, 844,”
the Sergeant ordered,
“but don’t go out of sight!”

Private 844 rose from cover. Keeping low, his gun at the ready, he stalked back uphill through the undergrowth until the trees began to thin out. Still nothing moved and he was called back before he disappeared from view.

“Coast clear, Sir,”
the Sergeant reported.

“Wait for reinforcements then make a tactical….” The Colonel hesitated.

As Private 844 was returning, wading through a bed of ferns, 3008 rose from behind a fallen tree to greet him but the banter died on her lips as a bizarre creature, terrifying to behold, came bounding down through the trees, leapt over 844 and launched itself at her.

Some remembered its glistening hide that shone in the sunlight and seemed a very dark blue in the shadows. Some remembered the bulbous head that appeared to have no eyes and others the limbs that numbered six or eight, or even more – so swiftly did the creature move it was impossible to count. What they all remembered clearly was the mouth, the carnivorous, ravenous mouth that bit 3008 in half.

844 was still standing amongst the ferns and it took his comrades a moment to realise his head was missing. Then, as if he had only just realised it himself, the legs buckled and the body collapsed. From his position on top of the outcrop Private 2479 fired a burst from his machine gun but he was shaking so much he succeeded only in felling a few small trees. Throwing aside what was left of 3008, the creature bounded towards the outcrop. There was something ape-like about its loping stride but it seemed more a computer-generated avatar than a physical being. The final burst of speed and the leap onto the rock tower were heart-stopping, and even Warblegrub held his breath.

Its prey dispatched – the details mercifully hidden from the Sergeant’s camera by the leafy branches – the creature looked up from the kill and scanned the glade. There were red slits on either side of the bulbous head and the fiery eyes found the last two terrified soldiers with one sweeping pass. Private 3992 immediately began to run – and even those watching from a safe distance felt the compulsion to flee – but the Sergeant managed to fire a whole clip of ammunition before he was dispatched and the screen went blank. A few heartbeats later, 3992’s short scream rang out over the radio and when 395 checked the vital signs, he too had joined the flat lines.

“Pure evil,” whispered Sarah, her voice hoarse and trembling, her eyes wide with terror.

“He’s not ‘evil’,” Warblegrub corrected her. “Killing’s in his nature.”

“And it’s in our nature too!” snarled the Colonel.

The Colonel recalled the relief party and while they hurried back along the ridge, the Colonel and 395 considered their route to the city, concluding that the southernmost of the mountain’s five ridges would provide the easiest path for about half the distance, after which they would have to cut their way over the densely wooded ridges that lay between the highlands and the coast.

The Colonel led the company across the valley, steering them away from the mountaintop and onto the south ridge, and only when the summit had disappeared from view did he call a halt. They all dropped their packs and slumped to the ground. The Colonel, however, drew a revolver and pointed it at Warblegrub.

“What was that thing?”

His eyes locked with the Colonel’s, Warblegrub pushed the gun aside. “For you he is death!”

“What’s he called?” asked 395.

The question caught Warblegrub off-guard; it was a long time since he had bothered with names.
“Fardelbear,”
he replied, recalling something he had read recently and had thought suited the creature very well. “He’s Fardelbear.”

“
Fardelbear?
What does that mean?”

“It’s to do with burdens,” replied Warblegrub vaguely.

The Colonel’s patience snapped. “Either tell us what you are, what that thing is, and what the hell’s going on here, or I’ll shoot you!”

Warblegrub looked at him blankly. “Then I suppose you’ll have to shoot, because I’ve told you….”

The shot rang out and the startled soldiers looked round to see Warblegrub drop among the ferns. As the Colonel returned the smoking gun to its holster, he encountered 395’s horrified expression.

“Problem?”

“He could’ve helped us!” 395 protested. He started to kneel down beside Warblegrub, who lay face up, his eyes wide open in surprise, a hole in his chest, but the Colonel grabbed his shoulder.

“‘He could’ve helped us,
Sir
’,” he reminded the Science Officer.