Journey to the Heart of Luna - Andy Frankham-Allen [37]
She started shaking and struggled to move. Stevenson had not considered the temperature drop; the atmosphere suit fed his own body heat back at him. Miss Somerset had no such luxury; she had been lying in a damaged flyer, open to the elements, for a week. Stevenson was far from a Luna expert, but he had heard that on the long nights the temperature drop was phenomenal.
With a hiss and a clunk the outer door finally released. Miller turned around, sweat beading on his forehead, and smiled. Stevenson said nothing. One good thing and the boy was happy with himself.
“Excellent work, Miller,” Bedford said, his tone implying he thought the complete opposite. “Now, come and help me with Platt. Stevenson, you take Miss Somerset. Challoner and Clements, keep point.”
Orders given, they worked quickly to carry them out. With an apology, Stevenson roughly strapped the oxygen cylinder to Miss Somerset, and pulled her off the floor. He would have rather done so gently, but his suit prevented such finesse. Miller and Bedford had no such misgivings about the unconscious Platt, of course, and began dragging him across the floor towards the open airlock. Stevenson stood by, and let them pass. Miss Somerset was a good deal lighter than Platt. Once they were safely out of the flyer, Stevenson turned to look at the two officers at the inner door. Challoner was busy reloading his carbine, while Clements continued firing.
“Let’s go!” Stevenson shouted.
Challoner looked up as he clipped the magazine to the bottom of the gun, and it was that moment of distraction that sealed the fate of both Ensign Lee Challoner and Able Seaman John Clements, affording Stevenson his first glimpse of the enemy.
Ten of them immediately filled the space outside the inner door, grabbing hold of Clement and Challoner with their spindly, but powerful, tarsal claws. In the earthlight their oily skin was a very deep-blue, almost black. At first Stevenson was certain his eyesight was failing him, his imagination working overtime as a result of the oxygenated air. He even shook his head, hoping to clear away the vision, but it persisted and he realised that the natives of Luna were indeed giant ants.
They pulled the two men out of sight, the guns falling to the floor. Stevenson quickly unjacked his helmet before he too was dragged into the gangway, and stepped back slowly, Miss Somerset held uncomfortably in his arms. If only she was more aware, she could possibly support herself a little, but as it was she was like a dead weight in his arms, preventing him from even attempting to reach for his own carbine.
The ant in the lead, a different colour to the rest, a rusty almost coppery lustre, tilted its head to one side, its antennae twitching. It noticed the discarded guns, and reached down and picked up one of the carbines.
Stevenson was transfixed, unable to take his eyes away as the ants all stood back, waiting for a signal from their leader. The copper ant was looking at the carbine, trying to figure it out. Stevenson blinked. Intelligent giant ants! He had travelled to Venus once before, seen the reptiles that lived there, but this was…Well, it was beyond the pale!
A bullet ricocheted off the iron door behind him, and he almost buckled in surprise. The ant had worked out the gun.
Stevenson turned and, hoping that the ant would take a lot longer to work out how to successfully aim the gun, exited the flyer as fast as he was able.
3.
“WILL THAT stench never cease?”
Folkard laughed. “I would suspect not, Professor. Who knows what these moon men excrete?”
“Good grief. Captain, please!”
Folkard raised his lantern so he could see Professor Stone’s face clearly. “Come, Professor, a scientist like you must be aware that all living creatures excrete things every day. Such things naturally smell.”
“Nonetheless, I hardly think this is the kind of conversation one should be having.”
Folkard looked