The Translated Man and Other Stories - Chris Braak [91]
“Go! Get out of here!” Beckett stood before the brass switches in the little room. “Go!” He screamed at Valentine. “That’s a fucking order.” Reluctantly, with a glance back at the monstrosity that was still methodically make its way up the stairs, Valentine disappeared down the icy tunnel.
Which one? Beckett thought. Then: There is no way this is going to work. He looked at the biggest switch he could find, a great knife switch set into the wall, and threw it. The coroner was rewarded almost immediately with a low hum, deep enough that it seemed to emanate from the very walls. Now what? There was a dial, something that looked like a timer. He set it to the smallest increment that he could, something that looked like a little less than a minute. It began to tick. Blue lights on the panel began to flash.
Judging by the wet squishing sound, the creature had reached the top platform. Beckett stepped out of the control room, praying that there was nothing else to do. He began to back away towards the tunnel. The creature’s head rolled in a wide circle before hanging towards him. It began to follow.
No. Beckett thought. It’ll follow me out. Shit. He’d reached the opening of the tunnel, and the creature was still following. Beckett sighed. I’ve got to stay. He drew his gun and fired the remaining four bullets, right at the thing’s head.
Blood and meat exploded into a beautiful, strangely-symmetric flower before reconstituting themselves exactly into that awful, screaming, dead-eyed face. The thing had not even slowed it’s pace. Can’t let it leave. Beckett steeled himself, and prepared to charge.
Something began to scream at the bottom of the cave, an unearthly wail at the highest pitches the human ear could perceive. The thing paused for a second, then resumed that steady, terrible approach.
Suddenly, Beckett felt a hand on his shoulder; Valentine shoved him out of the way and, roaring, hurled one of the phlogiston lanterns directly at the feet of the monster. Ordinarily, this would have simply sprayed burning phlogiston everywhere, but for some reason, some effect of the kinetic engine that held the ice together, or an effect of that terrible machine at the glacier’s core, the lantern exploded.
The blast was thunderous. It threw the two coroners back against the wall. It threw the translated creature clear across the cave like a flaming comet, tearing wooden scaffolding apart with it. The thing wailed, its limbs consumed with blue and red flames that burned in strangely symmetrical patterns.
Beckett found himself tangled up with Valentine on the floor, head resting against the icy wall. His ears were ringing now, and he could barely hear anything except that horrific scream from down below. He pulled himself to his feet and took quick stock; once he’d ascertained that his limbs were all intact, he tried to wake Valentine.
“Oh, you fucking idiot.” The man was bleeding from the head. He was breathing, but unconscious. “Stupid, stupid. Wake up! Get up, now!” The younger man didn’t move. No time, there’s no time. The wail had grown louder, and now the creature clutched the wall on the far side of the room. It still burned, but seemed unconcerned by that fact.
Crap. Beckett bent down and, grunting, managed to pull the younger man onto his shoulders. No fucking TIME! He half-staggered, half-ran as the wail rose to an ear-splitting pitch, following the dim lights down the hall towards the remaining blue lantern. That creature began to follow them into the tunnel. Beckett had just reached the staircase when the wailing sound abruptly ceased.
The translated monster paused. Then, without warning, it turned and leapt back into the icy cave. No time, Beckett thought to himself. His heart and lungs were pounding, screaming for air as he dragged Valentine up the stone stairs. His thighs felt like they were about to explode.
No time.
The Pilot changed its perspective again, so that it stood on the wall and could run straight forward towards the ground. Wood and ice spiraled out of the way, as it revolved itself through