By Chris Bishop
PART 2
“A Snowball’s chance…”
Doctor Fawn
assigned a private room to the Mogwai, where they played with whatever they
could get their paws on – papers, pencils, books, plastic bottles, whatever had
the brightest colours attracted them the most.
They were a noisy bunch when they were all chattering about, and so in an
attempt to keep them quiet, Fawn had a TV set installed for them. The biggest one he could find on
Cloudbase. It did attract their
attention, and for a little while, they were a little quieter, sitting in front
of the television and watching whatever was displayed on the screen. They weren’t that difficult to please –
they would watch anything – but they obviously had a marked preference for
anything that had bright and vivid colours and loud sounds.
The fascination
for the Mogwai quickly spread through sickbay.
Nurses and doctors, curious about them, found the time for a quick visit
to check on them, and see what they were all about. Female staff, most noticeably, found them cute, without any
exception. It was also interesting for Fawn to note that not one of the visitors
seemed to have ever seen Mogwai –
or heard about them - before. Not
even a nurse who came directly from Shanghai could remember any reference to the
small creature in Chinese culture – not even a mythic one. Which didn’t surprise Harmony in the
least, since she had not heard of them herself before receiving her cousin’s
letter and being confronted with Gizmo – even though, apparently, the small
animal had been in her family for some generations.
Mogwai
were still a total mystery; so far, research on Worldnet had not turned up any
satisfactory explanation of their existence. Neither had Fawn’s tests; he still
couldn’t relate them to any other species on Earth. It was as if they had
literally fallen from the sky at some point in history, the knowledge of their
existence being closely guarded by a very small number of people so well and so
jealously that they remained a total secret to an unsuspecting world at large.
Fawn did, however, discover that their physiology was quite unique.
And each discovery made the Mogwai even more outlandish than before.
Fawn
was busy in the laboratory, examining the last blood sample he had taken from
the Mogwai when new visitors came to see the creatures.
“Hello,
Doc. How are our little fellows
doing today?”
Fawn
gave a sigh, leaving his microscope to turn on his seat and address the two
Spectrum officers who had entered his lab.
Captain Grey and Captain Ochre were standing in the doorway, each
carrying a sports bag, and watching at him expectantly. The doctor threw his pen onto the
counter.
“Oh,
they’re fine. I suppose you came to
get a look at them too?”
“That
easy to guess, uh?” Ochre asked with a broad smile.
Fawn
rolled his eyes. “Do you have any
idea how many curious onlookers have come in since I received these little
creatures yesterday? First, it was
the doctors and nurses, then personnel from all over Cloudbase. That’s without mentioning the Angels and some of the other
captains who come to visit them – fairly regularly, might I add. You two are the
last of the senior staff to come.”
He left his seat. “If you’d
care to follow me...”
Fawn walked out of
the lab, followed by the two captains; he guided them to a remote private room
and opened the door. The three men
entered the dimly-lit room, which had been adapted for the Mogwai’s needs. They were seated on a large, thick duvet
spread out on the floor. Gizmo and Midget were installed in front of the TV set,
watching a show about car chases, while Snowball and the three others were
playing a little further away with pans and cans, beating on them with sticks in
a less than harmonious way.
“I had to restrict
access to the Mogwai,” Fawn explained as the door slid closed behind him, and
Grey and Ochre, fascinated, slowly crouched to get a better view of the small
animals. “Not only because it was
hindering my staff’s work, but also in case seeing so many strangers would
distress the Mogwai.
Fortunately, as it turned out, they are very sociable creatures. They don’t seem in the least disturbed by so many visitors.”
“The
Angels didn’t lie,” Grey said with a smile.
“They are rather cute. Which
is the one Harmony received?”
“Gizmo
is one of the two sitting in front of the TV.
The larger of the two,” Fawn explained, pointing to the two small
creatures in question. “He’s the
quieter one too. He doesn’t seem to
like playing with the others. We called the smaller one with him Midget. He seemed to have attached himself to
Gizmo. Maybe because he senses he’s
their ‘father’ or something…” He
waved to the other, more turbulent Mogwai.
“The others don’t seem to feel the same toward Gizmo, however. Most of the time, they ignore him. Snowball seems to have become their
natural leader. Scarlet refers to
the others as ‘The Three Stooges’.”
“I
thought he had given them the Marx Brothers’ names,” Grey retorted.
“Frankly, Captain Grey – I doubt if Captain Scarlet knows the difference between
the Marx Brothers and the Stooges.”
Ochre
chuckled. “That’s Scarlet for you. No movie or television knowledge
whatsoever…”
Fawn
raised a brow. “I’m rather surprised you didn’t come sooner, Captain Ochre.
Knowing you, I fully expected an
earlier visit from you – considering that you’re the one who delivered the box
containing the first Mogwai from the courier plane to the Amber Room…”
Ochre
grimaced, as he and Grey stood up to face the doctor. “The Angels told you that detail, huh?”
“How could you let
that one slip by you?” Grey asked, elbowing his fellow officer. “You’re getting old, Ochre…”
“I’m
younger than you,” Ochre retorted.
He nodded toward Fawn. “I would have come sooner, Doc… But duty got in the way.
So when Grey suggested that we drop in for a quick visit on our way to
the pool…” He lifted his bag to
emphasise the point, “…I thought it
was a good opportunity.”
“You
didn’t hear anything coming from that box, Captain?” Fawn asked.
“Not a
peep,” Ochre answered with a shrug.
“How could I guess there was an animal in there?”
“Mmm… and the Angels told me there weren’t any
ventilation holes in it, through which Gizmo could have breathed. I don’t understand how he was able to
survive the trip from China to our HQ in London, and then from there to
Cloudbase. It must have taken
days.”
“That
sounds impossible,” Grey noted with a frown.
“It should be impossible. But obviously, that animal did it.” Fawn sighed again. “Well, I guess that’s a new mystery to add to their account… There’s so much about these ‘Mogwai’
that I don’t understand. Least of
all, their way of procreating.”
A
banging sound and a sharp yell coming behind made him turn towards the TV set.
Gizmo and Midget were still sitting in front of it, but there also were two of
the other Mogwai. Gizmo was rubbing
the side of his head, moaning miserably, with Midget obviously busy trying to
comfort him and the two others
cooing with what sounded like laughter.
There was a pan lying on the floor at their feet, right next to Gizmo.
“Oh,
for God’s sake, what happened there?”
Fawn
rushed to Gizmo, followed by both Ochre and Grey, and the three men crouched
down next to the little animal. The
way he was glaring at the two laughing Mogwai was an indisputable accusation of
what had happened. Ochre put down
his bag and picked up the pan, before grimly looking over at the TV screen,
where there was a fist-fight going on.
“No
fair, guys,” Grey said to the still laughing Mogwai. “You could have hurt him badly with a trick like that!”
“They’re obviously easily influenced,” Ochre remarked.
“Much like small children.
TV violence… that could be a bad
influence on weak minds.”
“Hey! I grew up with that kind of show!” Grey protested.
“So?”
“He has
a cut, but it doesn’t seem too serious,” Fawn remarked, while examining a small
wound Gizmo had behind one of his large ears. “I’d better put some iodine on this, to make sure it won’t
get infected.” He picked Gizmo up
and carefully stashed him under his white jacket, and stood up, while a
protesting Midget was hanging on to his boots, as if unwilling to let his friend
go.
“Easy,
little fellow… I won’t hurt him.
I’ll bring him back to you as soon as I’m done.
Grey, would you get him off me?
I have to go and I can’t run the risk of stepping on him – or dragging
him all the way into the corridor.”
Putting
his bag down, Grey reached for the still agitated Midget and gently unhooked him
from Fawn’s boot. He held on to
him, much like a small baby, while Fawn left the room, the door closing on him,
with Gizmo hidden under his vest.
Ochre was glaring at the two Mogwai who were still obviously laughing their
heads off.
“Bad
boys, bad!” he snapped at them. “I
can appreciate a good joke as much as the next guy, but what you two did was
mean!”
“Easy,
Rick,” Grey said with an amused smile.
“They probably don’t understand.”
“If
they are laughing so hard, you can damned well be sure that they do understand,
Brad,” Ochre muttered.
Grey
put down the now calmer Midget onto the duvet, sighing. “You’re such a big kid, arguing with
animals… Come on, let’s check on that little fellow and then move on to the
pool.”
“Right,” Ochre said, rising to his feet with Grey, both of them picking up their
bags. “Or we won’t have any time
left before we’re back on duty… We still have some preparations to make for the
Halloween celebration. Have you
talked to the colonel about it?”
“Sure
did – but he wants a full review of exactly what you’re planning to do. I don’t know why, but he told me he
doesn’t want to have any surprises
from you during that little party of yours.
Almost his exact words.”
“Why is
he so suspicious?” Ochre noted with
an almost offended expression.
“Doesn’t he trust me?”
“Quite
frankly, Rick?” Grey grinned
broadly, pushing the button for the door to open in front of them. “I don’t think he does.” Both men prepared to leave and turned
one last time to look into the room.
The three Mogwai in front of the TV were looking expectantly at them, still
gibbering. “Be good, boys. You’ll
have your friend back shortly.”
With
that, Grey and Ochre left the room, the door sliding shut behind them.
They failed to
notice that two of the remaining Mogwai were now missing from the duvet where
they had been playing minutes earlier…
* * *
“Hi,
Edward. We heard there had been some kind of
accident with Gizmo?”
In his
laboratory, Doctor Fawn snorted disdainfully on hearing the voice coming from
behind him. He was leaning over
Gizmo, still treating the cut behind his ear.
“Nothing that antiseptic and a few stitches won’t take care of, Captain
Scarlet.” He glanced over his shoulder to watch as
Scarlet, followed by Captain Blue, entered the room. “Don’t tell me Ochre and Grey called you and that you ran all
the way down here when you heard the news!”
Scarlet
looked at him in confusion.
“Actually, one of your nurses told us, as we were looking for you,” he
explained. “What’s this about Ochre and Grey?”
Fawn
shrugged and turned to his small patient.
“They were here when the incident occurred. You just missed them by a couple of minutes. They came to check that Gizmo was all
right, and went on their way to the pool.”
“Glad
to hear everything is all right, though.”
Scarlet approached and looked down at the examination table, where the
small Mogwai was seated; the latter didn’t seem too traumatised by the fact that
Fawn was carefully stitching the base of his ear. “Hi there, Giz!”
“Hi, Paul!” The Mogwai’s voice was jovial
enough; he smiled broadly at the sight of his tall red-clad friend. Blue, standing next to Scarlet,
chuckled.
“Don’t
let the colonel hear you calling him that, Gizmo,” he said, jerking his thumb in
Scarlet’s direction. “That could
cause you a whole lot of trouble…”
“Gizmo in trouble?” Gizmo
seemed to inquire, tilting his head to one side. At which Fawn protested slightly.
“Now,
keep quiet a minute or two more, Gizmo,” the doctor reprimanded gently, but in a
stern voice. “It’s almost done
now.”
“What
exactly did happen, Doctor?” Blue asked.
“Apparently, Gizmo was attacked by one of the other Mogwai.”
“Attacked?” There was an alarmed tone to Scarlet’s voice.
Then he growled, “Snowball?”
“No… one of the Three Stooges. He hit him with a pan. I don’t know why, but apparently, they
thought it was a very funny thing to do at the time. They couldn’t stop laughing.”
“Laughing?”
“At
least that’s what it sounded like, Captain Blue. I asked one of the nurses to remove any dangerous objects
from the room. If they start
hitting each other, it may cause some trouble…”
Fawn straightened up, looking down with satisfaction as his handiwork. “Now, then, Gizmo. As good as new.”
He moved to pick up the small animal and his hand accidentally brushed against
the lamp set on the side of the table.
As a precaution, he had pushed the light away from Gizmo, so the Mogwai wouldn’t
be touched by it. As a result of
his unintentional gesture, the lamp moved, and the light hit Gizmo straight on.
There was a loud shrilling cry from the Mogwai as his eyes opened wide with pain
and horror. He seemed fly off the table, like a
streak of light – and an astounded Scarlet found himself holding the shivering
little animal, who had literally jumped into his arms as if looking for his
protection.
“Hey,
Doctor, be careful!” he automatically told Fawn off. “You know that these creatures are sensitive to light!”
“No
kidding,” Fawn mumbled. He killed
the light instantly and motioned to Scarlet.
“Put him there. I want to
examine him.”
Gently,
using comforting words, Scarlet put the Mogwai down onto the examination table,
and Fawn leaned over again to check on him.
He shook his head after a moment.
“Pupils are dilated, but there doesn’t seem to be any damage… Hold on, there’s a little bit of singed
fur here.” He pointed to a little dark spot
marking the otherwise snow-white part of Gizmo’s coat. The mark was no bigger than his
thumb. “Well, they are sensitive to bright light, that much is right,” Fawn remarked.
“And that was only a brief exposure. I can only imagine what a long exposure
would do to them…”
“What
strange creatures these Mogwai are,” Blue noted sombrely, his eyes not leaving
Gizmo who seemed to have grown calmer now.
“They’re getting more mysterious by the minute,” Fawn agreed. “I’ve examined many samples of blood taken from each
individual. They’re nothing like any other blood
samples I’ve encountered before.
They’re as unique as you are, Captain Scarlet.”
“Are
they really?” Scarlet replied, raising a brow.
“Actually, I should say that Gizmo is
as unique as you are,” Fawn corrected. “The
other five Mogwai share a similar kind of blood – even Groucho, who was born
from one of them. As for Gizmo –
even though he is the parent – his blood is different.
I still have to make further tests, but… there is definitely something
peculiar about him.”
“Could that be the
reason he doesn’t seem to get along with the others?” Scarlet asked. “They sense he’s different from them?”
“Could
be. Midget is the only one who
seems to like him. Although his
blood is similar to the others.”
“Or
maybe it’s him who doesn’t like the
others, for whatever reason,” Blue pointed out, still looking meaningfully at
Gizmo. “He really seemed to have
taken a liking to you, Scarlet.”
“We
‘unique’ types have to stick together,” Scarlet grinned, gently patting the
small Mogwai. “Isn’t that true,
Giz?”
“Is true!” Gizmo replied, as if he had
understood the question.
“What a
pair!” Blue grinned back, exchanging a mocking wink with Fawn.
“Excuse me, Doctor
Fawn?” The three men turned around
to see one of the sickbay nurses hovering in the doorway. She was the nurse whom Fawn had
instructed earlier to remove the pans and other objects which could be used as
weapons by the Mogwai. She was showing all the signs of being very
uncomfortable.
“Yes,
what is it, Nurse Lawford?”
“I’m
sorry to interrupt you, Doctor,” she started awkwardly, “but it looks like
there’s two of the little creatures missing from the room where we put them.”
Fawn
blinked. “Missing? You mean, they’re
not in the room anymore?”
“That’s
what I mean. I looked around with
another nurse… if they’re hiding in
there, they’re hiding very well.”
“They
didn’t take advantage of the open door to get out?” Fawn asked. He was concerned that, considering the
obvious sensitivity of the Mogwai for bright light, the missing specimens would
get hurt if they were wandering around in sickbay – or anywhere on Cloudbase,
where there was plenty of bright light
around.
“No,
doctor, I’m certain of that.” Nurse Lawford answered his question, shaking her
head. “We made very sure that nothing would get through the door.”
“Where can they
be?” a puzzled Blue asked. “Surely
they can’t have gotten far…”
“That’s
the last thing we need,” grumbled Scarlet.
“Launching a grand scale search for those missing Mogwai...” He paused a second, as a thought
suddenly came to his mind, and turned to the nurse.
“Which ones are missing?”
“The white one,
Captain,” she answered. “And one of
the three bigger specimens.”
“Snowball,” Scarlet snorted. “I
should have known he would be the one causing trouble…”
“You
just don’t like that one,” Blue retorted.
“Because he bit you.”
“No,
it’s my instinct telling me that one is
trouble…”
“Trouble,” confirmed Gizmo.
“With a
capital ‘T’. See, even Gizmo
agrees.”
“Yeah,
and I will give credence to a animal we know nothing about and who, as far as we
can tell, probably doesn’t have a brain larger than a dog’s…”
“All
right, that’s enough,” Fawn protested irritably, seeing Scarlet getting ready to
defend his furry friend. “We have
better things to do than argue amongst ourselves. Now, how did those
Mogwai get out of that room, without suffering from the bright light in the
corridor? If we figure that one
out, maybe we can find out where they are…”
“The
last time I saw all of them together, Doctor,” Nurse Lawford pointed out, “was
before Captain Ochre and Captain Grey’s visit.”
“I was
with Grey and Ochre when they went into the room,” Fawn remarked. “And all the Mogwai were there. Then I had to leave with Gizmo,
because…” He stopped suddenly, as realisation
dawned on him. He looked up at
Scarlet and Blue. “That’s when they
got out.”
“Into the
corridor?” Scarlet said with a frown.
“Without protection from the light?”
“Ochre
and Grey each had a sports bag with them,” Fawn continued quickly. “They put them on the floor when we went
to check on Gizmo. Our missing
Mogwai could have stowed away in those…”
“They
would have done that?” a doubtful
Blue asked.
“Don’t
underestimate their intelligence, Captain Blue. They were looking for a way out of the room all day. They
might have seized that otherwise unhoped-for opportunity…”
“Where
are Ochre and Grey now?” Scarlet asked.
“Well,
they told me they were going to the pool.”
Fawn’s jaw literally dropped as he pronounced those words. He went pale. And Scarlet and Blue with him. “My God! The pool!”
“Oh
no!” murmured Scarlet.
“Oh no!” repeated Gizmo. His expression
was a perfect mirror of the humans surrounding him.
“Nurse
Lawford, take Gizmo with you,” Fawn ordered the nurse, rushing to the door,
followed by Scarlet and Blue. “Keep
hold of him, don’t put him with the others right now, and for God’s sake don’t let him or any of the others wander
away!”
“Y-yes,
doctor,” the nurse answered, accepting the small animal Scarlet hurriedly pushed
into her arms.
“Scarlet, Blue, come with me, quick, to the pool.
Try to contact Grey and Ochre, and see if the missing Mogwai are with
them. We have to get up there
before something catastrophic
happens!”
“Oh, I
have a bad feeling about this…” Blue muttered as he lowered his cap microphone
to make the ordered call. “I have a horrible feeling about this…”
* * *
While
running all the way to the sports centre, situated on Deck B, just above
sickbay, Scarlet and Blue were unable to raise either Ochre or Grey. There was a fair chance that, if they
were already at the pool, they had discarded their caps and maybe even their
uniforms, so their personal communicators would be automatically disabled. By the time they came to that
realisation, the two captains were rushing up the stairs leading to the storey
above, with Fawn following a few metres behind – while he was in good physical
shape, the Cloudbase medical chief was a long way from equalling the captains’
peak of fitness. It was no use him
trying to keep up with them, so he simply followed, as quickly as he could.
When
they reach the top of the stairs, Blue stopped in front of a wall-mounted
intercom and punched a number into it, in a last attempt to contact Ochre and
Grey, while Scarlet continued towards the pool.
“Captain Ochre! Captain Grey!” Blue barked, his voice reverberating
through all the speakers in the sports centre.
“This is Captain Blue! This
is an emergency! Contact me
immediately!”
He
waited a few seconds, but there was no response, and that both irritated and
worried Blue at the same time. “Ochre!
Grey! Please, acknowledge! Use the nearest intercom! I’m on my way to the pool!” He left the intercom just as Fawn
arrived by his side and together, they rushed behind Scarlet.
The
latter had arrived in front of the door leading directly to the pool, when
finally the voice of Captain Grey was heard through the speakers:
“This is Captain Grey, acknowledging Captain Blue’s call…”
Scarlet used the
intercom next to the door.
“Grey, why didn’t you answer before?” he called angrily into it, his message
relayed only to the room on the other side.
“What is it?”
“We had a… small problem,” the voice of Grey answered from the
small speaker.
With an impending
sense of doom, Scarlet pressed the opening button and the door slid open before
him, just as Blue and an out-of-breath Fawn reached him. They nearly barrelled into Grey, whom
they found standing in the doorway, with an abashed look on his features. He was soaked from head to foot, still
in his uniform, but without his tunic and boots.
“We have been
busy,” he explained apologetically.
“Busy?” Scarlet
repeated with perplexity. He
brushed Grey aside and entered, with Fawn and Blue in tow, and took a couple of
steps into the large, dimly-lit room.
“What could possibly have… happened…”
He stopped in his
tracks; his jaw hit the floor and
he opened wide eyes at the sight offering itself to him. Behind him, he heard
Fawn’s gasp of surprise and Blue’s muttered curse.
All around the
empty pool, was a multitude of little brown and white creatures, oblivious to
the presence of the three men who had just entered to discover them. All too busy playing happily with
each other.
Mogwai everywhere…
cooing, singing, chattering, doing what Mogwai did best.
And seated on the
floor, in the middle of them all, was Captain Ochre, as soaked as Grey himself
was, with a sulking and defeated expression on his grim face, ignoring all the
noise around him as if it didn’t affect him at all.
Scarlet slapped
his forehead in complete disarray.
He was already
hearing Colonel White’s yelling…
* * *
“HOW many are
there?!”
Scarlet fought not
to roll his eyes. He knew that his
angry commander had heard him very well the first time.
“One hundred and
four, sir. Counting the previous
six.”
“ONE HUNDRED AND
FOUR?!” Up until now, Colonel White
had tried to remain as dignified as possible as the official reports from his
officers had slowly revealed the situation to him. Ochre and Grey were still dripping wet as they stood to
attention in front of him, and it was all Blue could do not to openly laugh. And it was no laughing matter at all –
at least in White’s point of view.
Now it was too much even for him to
stay calm. He jumped to his feet,
slapping the top of his desk. The
sound resonated through the entire control room.
All the captains automatically straightened themselves – especially Ochre
and Grey. Lieutenant Green, who had
wisely retreated to the other end of his computer, lowered his head and
pretended not to be there. As for Doctor Fawn, seated on the lone stool next to
the colonel’s rounded desk, he was hanging his head, and holding it as if he had
a terrible headache.
“We are lucky
there aren’t more of them, Colonel,” Scarlet continued stoically, as White
rounded his desk. “If not for
Captains Ochre and Grey’s speedy action…”
“If not for these
bloody fools, we wouldn’t be STUCK with ONE HUNDRED AND FOUR blasted little
furry creatures to begin with!”
White exploded, cutting off Scarlet’s protests.
He came to stand before Ochre and Grey and – if possible – they stood
even more rigidly. More than that, and they will bend backwards, Blue observed.
“Tell me at what
point exactly you realised you each had one of these creatures in your bags,”
White said between clenched teeth.
“When we opened
them, sir,” Ochre answered truthfully.
“And not for one instant, did you realise that your bags were a little
heavier than before you arrived in sickbay?”
“No, sir,” both
Ochre and Grey replied.
“And not a sound
from the bags either?”
“The Mogwai were
very quiet, sir,” Grey said. “It
was as if they wanted to go there and didn’t want to be found out. When we opened the bags in the locker
room, they… made a run for it.”
“Before we
realised, they were dashing out of the locker room and toward the pool,” Ochre
continued. “They’re incredibly fast on those little feet of theirs, Colonel.
We were unable to catch them. Well…
not before they were actually able to jump into the pool.”
“And then what?”
White snapped angrily.
Ochre closed his
eyes and sighed. “We removed our
tunics and boots and jumped in to get them out of the water as soon as possible. We’d heard about the effect water has on
them.”
“But it was
already too late,” Grey pursued.
“By the time we put the two Mogwai on the floor…
there were furry balls popping out of them…”
“Yes, all right,”
an annoyed White interrupted. “I already know how that happens…”
“There were so
many… All we could do is keep them
away from the water and remove the balls that had already fallen into the pool. As quickly as we could. But there were so many, there was only
so much we could do, Colonel, it was almost impossible…” Grey sighed in turn, lowering his head. “I’m sorry, sir.
We blew it.”
White’s eyes
burned hotter with barely contained anger; he huffed his frustration and turned
away, muttering to himself. Grey and Ochre briefly exchanged a miserable glance.
There was no way to know now how the colonel would react and what he would do to
punish them.
“Under the
circumstances, I believe you did your best.”
White’s words took everyone aback.
The Spectrum commander turned on his heels to face them. Frustration was still obvious in his
stern face, but he was obviously calming down by the second. “I
should
assign you to clean up after this mess, gentlemen – by cleaning up these
creatures’ own mess…”
Blue nearly
strangled himself forcing the laugh down his throat when he heard that; he had
the good sense to keep as straight an expression as he could. Grey and Ochre looked pale and
very uncomfortable at the thought, but they were relieved to see White waving
the thought away.
“But that wouldn’t
serve anything or anyone.
Right now, we have to make sure that it will never happen again.”
“Yes, sir, Colonel
White, sir,” Grey and Ochre agreed heartily.
“Those… one
hundred and four Mogwai…” White
grimaced, pronouncing the number, as he turned to Captain Scarlet. “They are all accounted for, I hope?”
“Yes, sir. None of
them is missing. They have been…
herded into the auditorium.”
“We have put
security guards in charge of surveillance,”
Blue added. “They won’t be
able to get out of there without being spotted.”
“Are they all in the auditorium?”
“Not exactly, no,”
Doctor Fawn then intervened, causing White to turn to him with an annoyed look.
“I asked to keep Gizmo in sickbay – along with the three others who are still
there and Snowball, who we found amongst his… new-found friends.
AND with two of those, as well. I
still want to perform a few tests.”
“Snowball, yes…”
White mumbled. “Well, it would
appear, Captain Scarlet, that your instinct was right about that little pest.”
“Sir.”
“Doctor, make sure that those creatures
can’t leave sickbay from now on,” White said, turning to Fawn. “I don’t want any more of those creatures running freely around Cloudbase.” He gave a loud huff. “One hundred and four Mogwai… I’m
sure
Harmony’s cousin won’t agree to take the whole tribe… Have we been able to reach him,
Lieutenant?” he added turning to Green, seated at his station.
“Er… Still nothing, sir,” Green answered, a
little awkwardly. “Spectrum
Intelligence is still trying to identify at which Shaolin Temple he’s residing.
Apparently, the Temple is reluctant to provide an accurate list of their
members…
There’s a lot of ‘Brother Huangs’ amongst the monks.”
“Keep Spectrum
Intelligence at it,” White growled. “Make it top priority.”
“S.I.G., sir.”
“And if any of
those loudmouths at SI should inquire about the reason why we’re interested in a
monk of the Shaolin Temple, tell them it’s classified,” White continued,
returning to his seat. “I won’t
have Agent Conners sticking his big nose into this…
I’m not going to give him the satisfaction of being able to make a
laughing-stock of Cloudbase staff.”
He sat down slowly at his desk, rolling his eyes upward. “One hundred and four Mogwai…” he repeated in an irate tone. “Now how the bloody hell can we get rid
of them?”
“Midnight Snack…”
Snowball knew that the Mogwai were meant to be stronger.
And his
instinct was telling him that, in order to get stronger, they needed to eat…
His stomach was always crying out in the middle of the night, demanding
nourishment right then and there, and he just knew that this was for a special
purpose. Because all the other Mogwai were like him, and fervently
wanted to eat, long after the sun had set – after midnight. They were all crying for food, but the humans were ignoring
them. They would not accede
to their demands. Snowball suspected that they had a good reason for that.
The
humans feared the Mogwai, and didn’t want them to grow stronger.
That
was because of Gizmo… Somehow he
had warned the humans off. He had
told them not to feed the Mogwai during the night.
Snowball HATED Gizmo… he wasn’t
like the other Mogwai. He
didn’t want to be fed after midnight, and was the only one not to cry for food. He had the humans’ trust and they liked him – much more than
they liked the other Mogwai.
Especially that red-clad, tall, dark-haired man they called Scarlet.
Snowball hated Scarlet even more than he hated Gizmo.
He didn’t like the way the human looked at him – as if he suspected that
the white Mogwai was up to something.
And indeed, he was right.
Snowball had found a way to trick the humans. All of them.
Before
he had been taken away from the auditorium, Snowball had given his instructions
to the others. They considered him
to be their leader, so they had listened to him with utmost attention. They would do as they were told.
It was
a simple and easy plan.
The
humans were feeding the Mogwai regularly – only, they were making sure they
didn’t give them anything after midnight.
Mogwai were ravenous creatures, so they normally ate everything they were
given right away. Snowball had
instructed the others not to eat all they received – but to hide some of it –
and wait. Wait until after
midnight. Wait until their stomachs
cried out and demanded food. Wait
until they were unable to wait anymore.
And
then the Mogwai would eat – and would become different – stronger.
He and
the others in the sickbay room would do the same, of course. He had already explained his plan to
them. There was just one small problem…
Gizmo.
He had
his eyes on them all the time, checking Snowball more precisely, obviously
suspecting something, like his human friend did. He posed a threat.
He was a spy for the humans.
He might alert them. Ah, to get rid
of Gizmo would make things so much easier.
It
could also provide – a diversion.
That’s
when Snowball conceived his second plan…
and conveyed it to the others.
* * *
Fawn
had put in long hours for the last few days, trying to learn more about the
Mogwai, and up until now, had not been able to find out much about them. That was probably what made them so
interesting, to the point that he couldn’t stop studying them. For Fawn, it was a curiosity very similar to the one he had
felt when he had started studying the Mysterons’ capacities – and Scarlet’s case
in particular. Both cases were a
constant and undying source of scientific fascination – and Fawn, first and
foremost, was a man of science, coupled with being a damned good doctor.
It was late in the evening, when Doctor Fawn came to see the Mogwai
in the room where they had been left, bringing Midget back with him. As soon as the little Mogwai was
put on the floor, he broke into a run and went to join Gizmo, who, as usual, was
seated a short distance from the others, watching the show on the television. No matter that the older Mogwai didn’t
seem to get on with the others, he still enjoyed watching the same shows as they
did. Actually, Fawn assumed that
whatever was presented on the screen, they would like watching it. Of course, they had their preferences,
depending on their personalities.
Gizmo, for example, would get absorbed in anything involving music – but
he had also sat through an old action-packed war movie the night before – so
engrossed was he that he didn’t even notice that the other Mogwai had fallen
asleep long before the movie finished.
The
following morning, Gizmo had only the name ‘Rambo’ on his lips. Fawn felt certain that it wasn’t the
first time the Mogwai had seen that movie – and that he would happily watch it a
thousand times more.
Gizmo
was glad to see Midget come back, and welcomed him accordingly, moving over a
little bit on the cushion he was sitting on to make some room for his smaller
companion. Midget was the only one
of his peers with which Gizmo got on; the little Mogwai was, indeed, very
similar in character to Gizmo. He
was gentle, playful in a quiet kind of way, and affectionate. He liked human company.
Not like the other Mogwai.
“All
right, little fellow,” Fawn said with a warm smile at the delightful scene of
Gizmo and Midget cuddling together, “I think that will be all for you today…”
His words apparently went unnoticed, as the two Mogwai were already enraptured
by the show. Fawn glanced at the TV with curiosity,
just in time to see the words “Quincy,
M.D.” appear on the screen. Another
one of those old medical show re-runs, he reflected inwardly.
“Well,
whose turn will it be this time?”
Fawn looked around at his feet. He
needed one of the new Mogwai, born the same morning at the pool. He had personally found two whom he knew
he would easily recognise. One of
them had a dark patch of fur on the top of his head.
He found it, seated right in front of the TV set, completely absorbed in
the show. “I think you’re elected,
‘Quincy’,” Fawn declared. He
crouched down to take the small animal in his arms.
The latter protested loudly and put on a struggle, but he was evidently
no match for Fawn.
“Hey! Calm down, little one! I won’t hurt you. I just want to do some tests on you… See how different you
are from all your ‘brothers’ – or ‘fathers’, whatever.”
Fawn
walked out of the room with the Mogwai still protesting. Snowball followed him with mean eyes,
until the door closed. Then he
turned to his three companions, seated with him.
They whispered for a time in low tones, now oblivious to the show on the
television.
Gizmo
was watching them with attention, suspicious of their behaviour. Experience had taught the older Mogwai
that he should distrust the majority of his peers; he knew they were trouble,
and forever up to something bad.
And amongst them, there was always one,
worse than the others, more malevolent and cruel – hating humans and wanting to
hurt them. One with a strong enough
personality, who would become their leader.
And it was always through that leader that trouble came. Snowball was that Mogwai.
Gizmo
tried to look inconspicuous, turning his attention to the TV screen, but still
watching the conspiratorial Mogwai with interest. He saw Groucho leaving the small group and walking toward the
filing cabinet leaning on the wall.
Gizmo followed him with his eyes, and watched as the Mogwai patiently
climbed the cabinet.
Once on
the top, Groucho was able to reach the air vent. Gizmo saw him push the grating slightly ajar and slip into
the opening. Gizmo gasped in
surprise; the other Mogwai had probably unscrewed the grating previously, at
some time during the day. They were
planning another escape – and Groucho was the first one to go.
Well,
he wasn’t going to go anywhere without surveillance!
Gizmo
left Midget’s side. The small
Mogwai was already so engrossed in the show that he didn’t seem to notice his
companion leaving him.
Gizmo
slowly started climbing the cabinet.
He didn’t look behind, and hence didn’t noticed the way Snowball was staring at
him, screwing up his eyes, a faint smile on his pursed lips.
Gizmo
slipped inside the vent, silently following Groucho.
Behind
him, Snowball watched him disappear, and chuckled evilly. From under the duvet he was seated on,
he brought out the food he and the others had hidden from the guards. The other Mogwai gathered around,
smacking their lips with anticipation.
Snowball looked up at the time displayed on the TV set’s clock.
02:35
hours.
“Yum-yum…”
* * *
After
what seemed like an eternity, the trail for Groucho brought Gizmo to a new,
darkened room. He stumbled out of
the air vent and fell to land with a big huff on the surface of a bed. He shook his head, protesting against
the high step and looked around with curiosity.
He was
in a relatively large room, where six beds, covered with gel-like mattresses,
were set in two rows, each attached to an electronic panel built into the walls
against which they were resting. There were sets of projectors embedded in the
ceiling, with multicoloured lights moving in quiet motion, at the rhythm of a
relaxing, humming sound. The
lights were set very low, so it didn’t cause any trouble at all to Gizmo who
looked around with some kind of awe in his big eyes.
Unbeknown to Gizmo, he had ended up in the sickbay auxiliary Room of Sleep.
He jumped off the bed to the floor and
explored, looking around with curiosity and some worry. There was no trace of his quarry so far,
but he had a feeling Groucho could be hiding somewhere in this place.
He head
a faint sound coming from one corner of the room. He turned around, his ears erect,
listening intently. He heard the
whisper of a Mogwai’s voice.
“Groucho?”
He
wasn’t surprised that his call went unanswered and that now he could hear only
silence. Gizmo gave a grunt of
annoyance and walked towards where he had heard the voice. He would find Groucho, and whether he
wanted it or not, the other Mogwai would come back with him to the room where he
would stay quietly and not cause any more trouble.
A sound
coming from behind made him stop – like something falling to the ground and a
gasp in a small voice. Gizmo turned
around to see what it was.
“Gotcha!”
Then
there was the sound of running feet and when Gizmo turned once again, it was to
see the door slide open and closed immediately. He rushed to it, suddenly sensing that there was something
afoot. He reached the door but even
though he was able to jump to touch the controls, the ‘open’ button refused to
work.
The
lights overhead became brighter and started flashing in a more rapid motion.
Gizmo
looked up in growing concern and shivered, suddenly realising he had walked into
a trap.
He gave
a loud, terrified squeal.
* * *
Doctor
Fawn was busy analysing a blood sample from his new Mogwai when he heard hurried
footsteps approaching the door, and a voice calling his name. He turned from his microscope in time to
see one of the security guards assigned to the Mogwai’s surveillance skidding to
a stop in the doorway.
“Doctor! We have a problem! One of the Mogwai has crept into the Room of Sleep and
activated the lights mechanism!”
“How
did he pass you, if you were keeping watch in front of their room?” Fawn asked
with a deep frown. He left his stool, grumbling with annoyance. These Mogwai were hard to keep in place.
The minute he took his eyes off them, they got into trouble.
He had to find a way to minimise their movements.
He left
the room, following the guard, the door sliding shut behind him. The Mogwai he had dubbed ‘Quincy’ was
looking rather grim in his cage, where Fawn had temporarily put him, and was
glaring daggers at the closed door.
He didn’t like the bars enclosing him, that restricted, too-small place. It was
undignified.
The
Mogwai growled. He hated Fawn for
having locked him up that way. He
would find a way to avenge himself…
That he promised.
His
eyes fell on the three small oranges the physician had left on his desk, and the
Mogwai grunted approvingly; his hunger had grown, in the last few minutes, and
had transformed into a craving. He
licked his lips, as his small hands went through the bars and struggled to reach
the fruits.
His
fingers closed on the nearest orange and pulled it inside the cage.
The
Mogwai devoured it greedily, zest, pulp and seeds, without any distinction, the
juice spilling on his coat.
The
clock was showing 03:15.
* * *
It was
pure coincidence that Captain Scarlet and Captain Blue arrived in sickbay two
minutes later; they had been
sharing the late evening duty shift in the Control Room and had just been
relieved by Captains Ochre and Magenta.
Scarlet had insisted on paying a visit to Gizmo, and Blue had reluctantly agreed
to follow – he was more eager to find Symphony, who had just left her duty shift
in Angel One at three. But Scarlet
had somehow managed to convince him to come with him; Blue knew his friend had
grown attached to the little Mogwai, but more than that, he was convinced that
Scarlet considered himself somehow responsible for what had happened to Gizmo.
If not for that first glass of water, the other Mogwai would never have been
born in the first place. That was taking responsibility to the
extreme, Blue reflected, but he knew that nothing he could say would convince
Scarlet to the contrary. So he
simply let it slide.
As soon
as they walked into sickbay, both Scarlet and Blue realised that something was
happening, when they saw Fawn exit his lab, to follow a security guard almost at
a run.
“Is
something wrong?” Blue asked.
“One of
the Mogwai is trapped in the sickbay Room of Sleep. Don’t ask me how he got in there.”
Scarlet
and Blue followed suit. Fawn and
the guard stopped in front of a door, at the end of the corridor; the doctor
pressed the button, but nothing happened.
“I
tried earlier,” explained the
guard. “The controls wouldn’t respond.”
Blue
crouched in front of the controls and examined them. The steel panel covering them was loose, and a few wires were
showing from underneath. Blue
sniffed; he could definitely detect a burning smell coming from behind the
panel.
“Short-circuit, maybe,” he noted, getting to his feet.
“Short-circuit?” Scarlet repeated dubiously.
“Why does that panel looks like it’s been removed and badly put back?”
“An
explosion inside might have dislodged it,” Blue suggested.
“Or the
Mogwai tampered with it to get inside,” Fawn retorted. He was still standing in front of the
door and was looking through the porthole to see inside. The lights he was seeing were a good indication that the Room
of Sleep systems had been powered up, as the guard had told him earlier. He grunted with humour. “I’m sure he must be regretting his
curiosity… Those flashing lights
must not be comfortable for him… Ah, here he is.
I can see him.”
Scarlet
came up next to Fawn and looked too; he could see the little Mogwai, standing in
the middle of the room, between the two rows of beds, frozen into place by the
fear of the bright and coloured lights flashing all around him, and trembling.
He didn’t seem sure where he should be going to escape.
The
Mogwai half-turned toward the door and Scarlet’s eyes opened wide when he
recognised him.
“That’s
Gizmo!”
“What?”
a surprised Fawn repeated, looking through the porthole again. “Are you sure?”
“Yes
I’m sure. Gizmo’s right eye is
surrounded by a patch of white fur.
He’s the only Mogwai with that distinctive mark. That’s Gizmo.”
“My
God…” murmured Fawn. “Indeed it is.
How did he get in there?”
“Never
mind that. Those lights are getting
brighter. They might hurt him!” Scarlet punched the intercom button and
shouted into it, hoping that, unlike the door controls, it would work.
“Gizmo! Can you hear me?” Through the porthole, he saw the ears of the Mogwai moving,
and Gizmo looking around to search where the familiar voice was coming from. “The door, Gizmo! Look at the door!”
Gizmo
turned around and saw Scarlet’s face through the porthole; the Mogwai’s face
seemed to illuminate with hope. He began to babble profusely, in that language
that nobody – except perhaps Harmony – could understand. Scarlet shook his head.
“Hide
yourself, Gizmo. We’ll be getting
you out of there in no time…”
But
Gizmo shook his head, and continued to talk, as if protesting loudly.
“Hide
from the lights!” Scarlet shouted again, irate that the Mogwai would not obey.
“They’ll burn you! Do as I say, Gizmo! I’m coming to get you!”
Gizmo
seemed to shrug it off then he turned to walk towards of one of the beds set
against the wall. Figuring out the
Mogwai had finally understood and was obeying him, Scarlet turned to the control
panel. He pushed the button, just
in case it would now work.
“No
go,” Blue commented. “Maybe we can
force the door open?”
“Those
doors are magnetic, that might be difficult,” replied Scarlet. “Let’s check under that panel first.”
It was
rather easy to remove the plate, as it came loose almost as soon as Blue put his
fingers around it to pull it off. A
mass of tangled wires and circuitry appeared before their eyes, some of them
burned and melted, and still smoking; a smell of burned rubber escaped through
the open panel.
“What a
mess,” murmured Scarlet. “I wonder
what happened for it to be in such a state?”
“There’s two loose wires,” announced Blue.
“Those red ones there? They
look like they belong to each other.”
“They
do indeed,” Scarlet said. “Maybe
that’s what caused the short-circuit…”
Cautiously, he reached out to the bare end of one of the wires, taking
good care not to touch anything else.
He barely grazed it.
A
violent flash exploded from the control panel and he yelped, removing his hand,
and stepping backward under the electric shock he had felt. There was a stinging pain in the tips of
his fingers, and the rest of his hand, right through his wrist, felt numb. Blue was immediately by his side.
“Careful!” the American captain urged, looking in concern at his friend’s
injured hand. “You know what electricity might do to you!
What did you do?”
“Nothing!” Scarlet heatedly defended himself.
“That blasted thing simply…”
Another
flash, more violent than the previous one, interrupted him and flames erupted
from inside the panel. A loud
sizzling sound was heard coming from the wall and suddenly…
All the
lights in the Room of Sleep flashed to full, blinding intensity, accompanied by
loud explosions. The wall trembled
and the door to the room was shaken off its support, the porthole window
cracking and shattering under the violence of the blast. Everyone threw themselves against the
wall to avoid the flames emerging from the opening.
The first seconds of surprise past, Scarlet opened eyes wide with dismay,
staring at the smoke coming out through the porthole and the slight gap that had
now appeared between the door and its frame.
“Gizmo!”
He
jumped to the door, followed by Blue and the two of them struggled together to
pull it open. It slid grudgingly,
grinding as it did. It took a few
seconds. When the space was sufficient enough to
let him through, Scarlet slipped into the room.
The
built-in fire extinguishers in the walls and ceiling had already started
spraying their foam by the time the captains had been able to open the door, so
most of the fire had already had been taken care of. The smoke in the room wasn’t very dense, so they were
able to see the total devastation in the room.
Walls and floor had all been blackened by the intensity of the flames.
Some of the beds were still burning, their electronic devices sizzling. The lighting systems were completely
destroyed, cables hanging loosely from the shattered ceiling. Pieces of wreckage were lying
everywhere.
Captain
Blue and Doctor Fawn had entered in turn.
With a portable fire extinguisher,
Blue was taking care of the remaining small fires, while Scarlet was
searching around, turning over everything that was lying on the floor, hoping –
without really expecting – that Gizmo had somehow survived the explosion.
“Gizmo?” he called, looking with hopelessness at the surrounding devastation. “Gizmo, where are you, little fellow? Answer me!”
“Paul…”
Scarlet
turned around at the sound of Blue’s low call.
His colleague had just turned over the ruins of a ceiling panel he had
just extinguished. Fawn and Scarlet approached, and looked down at what the
American captain was grimly looking at.
There
was only a small heap of ashes and crisp remains, half burned brown and white
fur, and a small bit of what had been a Mogwai’s ear.
The
first moment of horror past, Scarlet turned away with a revolted scowl. That was
all that was left of his little friend.
Fawn
shook his head with sadness. Blue
gave a deep sigh, and tactfully covered the grisly remains with the half-burned
board. “I’m sorry, Paul,” he
offered to his English colleague’s back.
“Sometimes weird accidents happen and…”
“Accident?” Scarlet repeated sourly.
He turned a grim face to his friend.
“Are you sure that was an accident?”
“Come
on… what else could it be?”
Scarlet
didn’t have time to answer, before a security guard presented himself at the
opened door. He first looked around
with dismay at the destruction in the room, before clearing his throat and
addressing Doctor Fawn. “I’m sorry…
I… I think there’s something the matter with the Mogwai we’re keeping in the
auditorium.”
“What,
again?” Fawn said with a deep
frown. “Don’t tell me that more of
them have escaped?!”
“Uh…
no… at least, I don’t think so…”
The guard shook his head. “I don’t
know what the problem is, but I think you’d better come and see…”
* * *
“They're in what?”
“Pupal
stage, sir,” explained Doctor Fawn patiently.
“As strange as it may seem.”
Colonel
White scratched his head with mystification.
He had been dragged out of bed only twenty minutes earlier by Doctor
Fawn’s urgent call and, only taking the time to put on a robe, he had gone
directly to the auditorium. Doctor
Fawn was already there, with Captain Scarlet and Captain Blue. For them to decide to awake him in
the middle of the night, White was certain that there must be a good reason. They had reported the incident involving
Gizmo and already, his instincts told him that something suspicious was going
on…
But he
wasn’t quite prepared for what he discovered in the auditorium.
He
thought he would find the Mogwai there; either asleep, or watching some
television programme or other on the large screen in front of them. Instead, the Mogwai had disappeared. Well… not quite. They were still there… But they weren’t quite themselves.
In each
of the auditorium seats where previously a Mogwai had sat, was a large,
cocoon-like thing.
Chrysalis, Doctor Fawn had
explained. They were big – bigger
than the Mogwai had been, hard and sticky to the touch, viscous and absolutely
disgusting. None of them similar to
the others.
“I can
only theorise,” Fawn continued, as White was looking at the cocoons with
confusion. “But… it looks like it’s
the same process as for butterflies.
They entered that phase to transform themselves.”
“Into what?” asked White, raising a brow at his
medical officer.
Fawn
shrugged. “That’s anybody’s guess,
sir. All I can say is this. When Corporal Brody came to fetch me in
sickbay and brought us here, I found exactly the same thing you’re seeing now.
First thing I did then was call back to sickbay to ask how the Mogwai there were
doing.”
“And…?”
“Nurse Lawford went to check. Apparently, the Mogwai had been very
quiet tonight, and she already suspected something was afoot. She found them all curled up, and in
what looked like a catatonic phase.
She was unable to wake them up. And
when she touched them, she noticed that something sticky was covering their fur. I went back to check.” Fawn sighed. “I still don’t know how, but all of them, even the one I was
keeping in my lab for tests, had started secreting a kind of sticky fluid that
would eventually lead to the formation of the same kind of pod surrounding these
others,” he explained with a wave of his hand. “Apparently, during that period, the Mogwai will stay
unconscious… that is, until the
changes within the cocoon have been completed.
Then, they should emerge… and we will see what kind of butterflies they
might be.”
“Any
idea what triggered this… metamorphosis?” White asked with a frown.
“Oh,
yes… I have a pretty good idea.”
Fawn fished in the pocket of his jacket and presented what remained of a
chocolate wrapper. Then he
indicated similar pieces of paper, lying everywhere on the auditorium floor. “They ate after midnight,” Fawn offered
simply.
“I
thought I gave specific instructions
not to feed them after midnight,” White almost growled. He couldn’t think that anybody would
dare disobey his orders.
“They
weren’t fed after midnight,” a grim-looking Captain Scarlet retorted. “They fed
themselves. These Mogwai are
clever. They hid the food they were
given during the day and waited until the right moment to eat. They wanted this to happen.”
“Speaking like an expert, Captain?”
White asked, a little sourly.
Scarlet
suppressed a frown. “No, sir. Speaking with my instinct. We took all the precautions necessary
concerning the Mogwai. They foiled our every move. They wanted to multiply – they found a way to water. They wanted this metamorphosis – they
took the steps to make it happen .
They are more intelligent than we gave them
credit for.” He nodded slowly. “It might be only instinct guiding
them, but I’m sure they’re doing all this for a reason.”
“I hate
to agree with Captain Scarlet,” Captain Blue said in turn. “But… I fear he’s right. Whatever may come out of those pods – we
have to be careful. We may be in
for a big surprise.”
White frowned. Those Mogwai will cause
me nothing but trouble, that much is true…
“Right,” he finally agreed. “We’ll
keep the pods under surveillance, then.
Twenty-four hours a day, until they hatch.
Here, and inside sickbay.”
“Two of
them are unaccounted for,” Fawn then noted, a little hesitantly. “We discovered that there’s only four
cocoons in the sickbay room where we were keeping Snowball and the others. There should be two more. Now, unless some of those pods had stuck
together to form only one…”
“You
mean there might be two Mogwai running free on Cloudbase?”
“Or two
pods lying somewhere else, if those two had eaten after midnight.”
“Where
was security during that time?” White
almost barked.
Fawn
sighed. “Sorry, sir, but it would
seem that all the commotion due to that… accident in the Room of Sleep caused
enough confusion… Confusion that
those two Mogwai took advantage of to get away.”
“Clever
little pests, indeed,” White muttered.
“I want them found, as soon as possible!”
“Yes,
sir,” Captain Blue agreed quickly.
“I’ll put security on it immediately.”
“Captain Scarlet?” Colonel White
turned to his young compatriot. The
latter nearly snapped to attention when his commander addressed him. “Someone will have to tell Harmony about
her Mogwai,” White pursued. “And
since you had grown attached to the little fellow…”
“I will
tell her, sir,” Scarlet agreed with a brief nod. No emotion was apparent on his face, but White knew he
probably was feeling bad about the death of Gizmo.
He would not show it, and he would probably be able to comfort Harmony
appropriately when he told her the news, if it should come as a shock to her.
White
turned to face Fawn again. “I take
it your research hasn’t turned up any results so far concerning these creatures…
and what we might be expected to find when these pods hatch?”
“None
so far, Colonel. But Captain
Magenta wants to make a thorough search on Worldnet tomorrow. He said he might have found a lead – but he didn’t have the
time to dig it out properly until now.”
“Well,
tell him to do dig it out!” White grumbled with bad humour. “I want some results. I
hate
to be left in the dark when facing an unknown situation.” He turned around. “I’m going back to bed.
And PLEASE, try to keep everything quiet for the next two or three hours?
All these disruptions because of these Mogwai are becoming
really tedious…”
“Still here, Captain?” Doctor Fawn said,
walking toward Magenta who was still working at his computer station in sickbay.
“It’s been hours, since this morning… You should give it a rest.”
Captain
Magenta sighed, and turned from his computer screen to face the physician who
had entered the room. Behind his
visitor, beyond the doorway, he could peer into the laboratory that Fawn had
just left, leaving the door open.
Magenta could see the pod, in the middle of the examination room – a
shapeless heap of a greenish-brown crust surrounding the creature that was
metamorphosing inside. Magenta
detached his eyes from the grotesque vision to smile gratefully at Fawn.
“Tired
of seeing me invade your sickbay, Doc?” he asked with a short laugh.
“Just
concerned that you’re exhausting yourself with work,” Fawn retorted, rolling his
eyes. “You should leave now. And get some rest. Better yet, get your mind off it all. Go to that Halloween party with the others and have some
fun.”
Magenta
chuckled again. How in Heaven Rick
had managed to convince the colonel that the Halloween party should still take
place, despite all the recent events on Cloudbase, was beyond his comprehension.
That would just be another exploit to add to Ochre’s already impressive record…
“I will
in a few minutes, Doc. Right now, I
think I’ve found something interesting concerning the Mogwai. Is Harmony here?”
“I’m
here.” The quiet voice at the
doorway attracted both men’s attention and they turned to see Harmony enter. “I asked Lieutenant Tuscan to cover for
me in the Amber Room with Symphony and came right away when you called me,
Captain Magenta.”
“Thanks
for coming,” the Irish captain said, welcoming her with a sympathetic smile.
“How are you feeling?”
She
shrugged, trying to look indifferent.
“I am holding up,” she said quietly.
“Gizmo was a gentle little creature.
I didn’t get to know him very well, unfortunately, and I’m certain that
this is my greatest loss. I just
have to see how Captain Scarlet reacts to Gizmo’s death to be sure of that. I
think he feels more than I do. As
for me, I’m trying to cope with the fact that I lost something that was so very
precious to my family.” She smiled,
almost uncomfortably. “I must sound
like a callous person, I’m sure…”
“No,”
Magenta reassured her with a smile.
“I know you better than that. I
know you feel for the little guy’s loss, but you won’t go as far as saying so
openly. That’s … very traditional of you.”
She
reddened. “Captain…”
He
laughed. “Come over with Fawn and see what I found,” he said, quickly changing
the subject. For that, Harmony was
grateful. She was a very private person and speaking of her inner thoughts and
emotions made her feel very uncomfortable.
With
Harmony standing on the other side of the captain, Fawn leaned over the latter’s
shoulder, and looked down to read the large title spread across the computer
screen Magenta had been consulting all day.
“ ‘Gremlins: the night that shook Kingston
Falls. The truth behind a so-called
mass hysteria’. What’s the link with
our little furry friends, Captain?”
“That’s
a book, written by a former industrial artist turned anthropologist in his later
years, called William Peltzer, in 2010.
The word ‘Mogwai’ appears all over it.
At least two thousand times.”
Magenta browsed around the very long article, choosing a few selected
passages that he showed to the doctor.
“It was mentioned in a short article and I was lucky enough to find the
whole book in the international online library service. It recalls the events leading to a case
of reported mass hysteria – which struck an entire little town in the United
States during Christmas 1982.”
“That’s
nearly ninety years ago,” Fawn said, furrowing his brow. “But I still don’t see…”
“Wait. I’ll explain and it’ll become clear: for
Christmas that year, Peltzer’s father gave his son a small, cute, furry
creature, that he had bought in a Chinese shop in New York. There are small details concerning the
purchase that indicates that the animal in question wasn’t really intended to be
sold in the first place, but the young grandson of the owner’s shop seemed to
need the money. So he smuggled the
animal out of the shop and sold it to Peltzer – and mentioned to him that there
were three rules that he had to follow in order to take care of the creature.”
“A
Mogwai,” Harmony said automatically, reading the print on the screen. “Oh… the name of that shop’s owner… That’s Uncle Lee.”
“And
that’s not all that attracted my attention,” Magenta added. “Look at the name Peltzer gave to the
Mogwai.”
“Gizmo!” Harmony exclaimed. “But…
that’s impossible! That would mean that he was at least ninety years old.”
“Mmm…
Maybe even older,” Fawn said hesitantly.
“As a matter of fact, I was unable to figure out how old he was. Is there a photo, Magenta?”
“No
photo of the actual Mogwai of that era, no.
But there’s this.” Magenta pressed a key and a black and white drawing
appeared, that made his two companions gasp.
“Drawn by William Peltzer himself.”
“That is Gizmo,” Harmony agreed. She had
recognised the white patch of fur around the right eye. And even beyond that, even considering
that Mogwai were very similar to each other, there was something in Gizmo’s
outward attitude that set him apart from the others.
The Angel pilot nodded thoughtfully. “Mogwai are supposed to have a long
lifespan…”
“Apparently, they can live many centuries,” Magenta confirmed. “Or at least, that’s what the book says.” Fully aware that the others were staring
at him sceptically, he pressed a key, jumping to another passage of the book. “After the events in Kingston Falls in
1982, William Peltzer returned Gizmo to his original owner. Then, he returned to a normal life, but what happened that
winter developed within him a growing interest in Mogwai that never truly left
him. He started researching them
and eventually, after many years as a successful artist, decided to branch out.
He became an anthropologist, and his research into the Mogwai eventually took
him to China, where he believed they originated.
It took him years to find every little bit of information he could on the
Mogwai and to bring it all together in a single study. By his own account, it became an
obsession, costing him his private and family life.
He probably became the only
full-fledged expert on Mogwai that ever was, but here’s the snag: people thought
he was some kind of loony.”
“I’ll
say,” the practical Fawn remarked with a renewed frown. “I’m seeing it, and I
have trouble believing it. What
else is in this book? What were
those events in 1982 that led people to believe that Kingston Falls was the site
of a mass hysteria? I don’t know
about you, but that makes me feel a little nervous…”
“What
is a Gremlin?” Harmony asked in
turn.
“First
things first,” Magenta said, turning his chair to face his two companions. “I’ve
got to explain the findings of Doctor Peltzer first.” He blew a deep sigh, as if preparing to
make a long speech. “There are two
kinds of Mogwai. The minority
Mogwai and the majority Mogwai.
Gizmo is what is called a minority Mogwai. That doesn’t mean that,
physiologically, he’s that different from the other Mogwai, no.
Within him are the genes to create others just like him whenever he gets
wet and breeds. After it is born, a
baby Mogwai will grow to adulthood in about ten minutes… Even if a baby is wet, it won’t give
birth to another baby because it has to be mature to do so.”
“Which
is a good thing,” Fawn remarked.
“Or Grey and Ochre would have had a lot
more trouble when they got those baby Mogwai out of the pool the other day. They would still be at it…”
“The
trouble with Mogwai is that if they can produce other Mogwai after getting wet,
there is only about a one in a thousand chance that the baby Mogwai will be a
minority Mogwai – like Gizmo is.
Minority Mogwai are gentle and kind, and they love being around humans
and to be cuddled by them. Majority
Mogwai hate minority Mogwai because of that.
Maybe they think they’re sickeningly sweet… For, you see, majority Mogwai are wicked, and malicious… and
can only think of doing mischief.
Even – or rather especially – if it
means causing destruction, pain and suffering around them. They simply do not care.”
Harmony
and Fawn exchanged worried glances.
“That’s why Peltzer called them ‘Gremlins’?” the Angel finally asked.
Magenta
scratched his cheek, thoughtfully.
“Well, that’s the other thing about these creatures. That’s what Peltzer called them after
their metamorphosis… You’re a
pilot, Harmony, so you know that a ‘gremlin’ is what war veterans called
whatever problems they had with their planes – electronic or mechanical…”
“I know
that, but…”
Magenta
sighed anew. “For whatever reason, when a Mogwai eats after midnight, a chemical
reaction in its body starts a metamorphosis,” he explained. “Even if it is a minority Mogwai. The fact is, however, that a minority
Mogwai will avoid the metamorphosis at all costs.
While a majority Mogwai will do everything in its power for it to happen.
We all know how it goes now. How
the Mogwai will find itself in a cocoon, while the metamorphosis occurs…
And what they will look like is…”
Magenta marked a pause. He
turned to his screen again and pressed a new key to search for a specific image.
He found it. “Here.
This is a Mogwai after metamorphosis is complete. A ‘Gremlin’.”
Fawn
and Harmony leaned over the captain’s shoulders and stared at the new drawing
the screen was displaying.
“Holy
sweet Mother of Jesus,” Fawn exhaled in a slow, muttering tone.
“Ugly
thing, isn’t it?” Magenta replied grimly.
Harmony
was staring at the horrible creature displayed on the screen. She couldn’t stop a chill running
through her veins.
“That…
thing looks dangerous,” she remarked.
“Why do
you think they thought the events in Kingston Falls was a case of mass
hysteria?” Magenta replied. “The same thing that’s happening here happened there. Gizmo became wet, and gave birth to new
Mogwai. Those Mogwai turned into
these things and they gave birth in turn, to full grown Gremlins… who, during the night, spread all around
Kingston Falls causing all sort of trouble – and even death.” He pointed to the image on screen. “These things are deadly. They go everywhere, are incredibly fast
and intelligent, and want nothing other than to cause chaos. They do not care about anything, any
life – even their own.”
“And
how much time does it take before metamorphosis is complete?” Fawn asked with a
frown.
“Peltzer wasn’t really sure. He
figured about twelve hours… Maybe more, maybe less.”
Harmony
opened wide eyes. “And how much
time has passed already since the Mogwai went into their cocoons?”
Fawn
went pale. “We’re almost out of time, then.
We have to alert security at the auditorium, and do something about those
pods before they hatch and it’s too late.”
He
reached for the comm.link set on the desk next to the computer and punched the
code for the auditorium. He barely
waited for the acknowledgement call to bark into it: “This is Doctor Fawn in sickbay!
Close and lock all accesses to the auditorium immediately. This is an emergency! I repeat: emergency! Close and lock all accesses to the
auditorium right now!”
He
didn’t receive the answer he expected; instead of the voice of the sergeant in
charge of surveillance at the auditorium, he heard a cackling, almost maniacal
laugh that sent a shiver up and down his spine. In the background, there were
indistinct sounds of chaos: other, muffled laughs, cries, noises of things being
broken, high pitched voices, talking gibberish… and then horrified and painful
yells, as someone finally tried to answer him:
“This is Sergeant Bertram at the
auditorium! The pods have hatched! S.I.R.!
There’s horrible creatures everywhere!
We can’t contain them… We’re trying to get out… We need help! S.I.R.! S.I.R.!”
Then
there was another painful scream and the same laugh as was heard previously,
this time louder. Fawn paled and
turned panic-stricken eyes to look at both Harmony and Magenta. They were in the same shocked state as
himself.
“I
think, Doctor, that we’re already out of time,” Magenta stated, reaching for the
comm.link himself. “We must contact
the Control Room right away and tell them…”
He was
interrupted by a crackling sound coming from the other room and they went rigid.
They all turned around and looked beyond the doorway and into the lab – to see
the ugly, green surface of the cocoon sitting in the middle of the table
cracking open with a sickening sucking sound – and a thick smoke emerging from
it. Magenta slowly rose to his feet, to stand between Fawn and
Harmony; the three of them had their eyes set with ill-fated anticipation on the
opening pod.
They
saw a clawed, green-scaled hand appear in the crack. Magenta swallowed hard.
He quickly stepped out of the room, and into the corridor to press the
button to close the lab door. It slid closed and he locked it, before turning to
Fawn and Melody, who had joined him in the corridor.
“The
other pods, in the room where we keep the Mogwai,” Fawn then realised. “Maybe
they’ve hatched, too…”
“Right,” Magenta replied with a grim nod.
“I’ll go check. Harmony, alert the
sickbay personnel. Doctor, go to your office, call Control Room, give the
alert…”
The
three of them separated; Magenta quickly strode toward the room where the other
Mogwai had been kept, drawing his sidearm.
The security guard at the door stood to attention upon seeing him.
“Open
that door!” Magenta bellowed. “And be ready to shoot!”
He
could see by the look on the guard’s face that the latter didn’t quite
understand what it was all about, but he obeyed nevertheless, and drawing his
pistol too, pushed the button.
Magenta braced himself, getting ready for whatever they would find.
The
room was totally dark, with absolutely no light shining into it, save for what
came in from the corridor. Magenta
looked around at the four huge cocoons covering the floor.
They
were all ripped open and empty. But
the transformed Mogwai were nowhere to be seen.
A quick survey of the room made Magenta realise that they were gone: the
grille on the opening of the air vent, just over a filing cabinet, had been torn
open… The creatures had escaped that way.
“They
have hatched too,” Magenta murmured, his eyes opening wide with horror. “And they’re out!” He turned to the security guard.
“Secure the place, and gather all personnel! Tell them to hide, as quickly as possible.”
“Hide
from what, Captain?” the guard asked, rolling puzzled eyes. Surely, his superior wasn’t afraid of
four cuddly little bear-like creatures…
“You’ll
be sorry if you ever find out, Corporal,” Magenta retorted, grabbing the other
man’s arm. “Do as I say!”
A
frightened shriek made itself heard from the other side of sickbay and Magenta
almost jumped; looking in that direction, he went pale. “It’s started… I’ll go see. Get
going, man!”
“S.I.G., Captain.”
The man
ran off to obey his orders and Magenta took off in the direction of the screams.
Fleeing nurses passed by him, fear splattered on their faces, running as fast as
their legs could carry them, almost oblivious to his presence; he had to catch
up with one of them to ask what was going on.
“Monsters!” she explained, gasping for air and eyes wide-opened with panic. “Ugly monsters! They’re all over the place!
They attack people!”
“Get to
cover!” Magenta ordered around.
“Keep yourself out of their way!
They’re dangerous!” He left
the nurses to run, and went a few more steps.
He saw Harmony coming his way, breathing hard.
“Everyone is hiding,” she informed him.
“But the Gremlins are…”
“…
Everywhere, I know.” He heard a maniacal laugh suddenly echoing from ahead, and
then the sound of running feet, just above
their heads. He and Harmony
looked up. “They’re in the air vent…”
“They
could get everywhere they want that way,” Harmony murmured.
The
lights in the corridor started flashing and went off. Magenta caught the Angel by the arm and looked around. “We’d better take cover too…” They were close to Doctor Fawn’s office
and went there, looking behind them to make sure they weren’t followed. Magenta closed the door behind him, and
locked it. He then ordered the
light to full intensity. It refused
to obey, and only the dim red light of the emergency system came to life.
“They
got to the lighting system,” the Irish captain muttered. “Of course, they’re
vulnerable to bright light. That would be their first move.”
“Captain…” Magenta looked over at Harmony, who was
searching around the room with her eyes.
He wondered if she was looking for Gremlins, which might have possibly
entered the room. He discovered it
wasn’t the case when she turned an alarmed face to him.
“Where’s Doctor Fawn? He was supposed to come here...”
“Let’s
hope he’s hiding somewhere,” Magenta replied, lowering his cap mic. “Right now, we have to contact the
Control Room… Fawn might not have had time to do it…
We have to alert all Cloudbase personnel that Gremlins are on the loose
on base.”
* * *
Colonel
White had decided to take a much needed – if somewhat short – break on the
Promenade Deck, savouring with much delight the cup of tea he had made himself,
and admiring the view from the window.
He had brought a book with him.
It wasn’t that often that he had time to read properly, but once in a
while he would make himself take the time.
It wasn’t too well-known that he loved mystery and suspense novels – and
this one he had put on the table was on the best-seller list in London. He was nearly at the end. He was hoping to find out who the
murderer was before he had to go back to his shift in the Control Room.
He sat
down comfortably and opened the book with a satisfied sigh. He had only read one page, and was
beginning to get engrossed in the suspense, when a very recognisable sound made
him raise one brow and look up through the large window.
He saw Angel One being catapulted from the runway and shooting into the
air, like a bright white arrow. He
frowned. Now, there was no scheduled
patrol today… Had something
happened in the Control Room without him being notified?
He
shook his head. No, if there had
been an emergency, he would have been called down to his station. That wasn’t the case.
Probably just a routine patrol, that’s all, he tried to convince himself. I must have forgotten… Although, it
wasn’t that often that he would forget something like that… He had to admit, however, that with the
problems caused by the Mogwai’s presence and the little amount of sleep he had
had recently might have confused him.
He tried to go back to his book, but he was
unable to relax completely. He couldn’t shake the nagging feeling in the back of
his mind that something was up.
Another
sound reached his ear; faint, almost indistinct, but this time not familiar at all. Again he raised his head from his book
and listened carefully, looking around.
It was coming from somewhere quite close – from somewhere inside the Promenade Deck.
They were… munching sounds, he
realised with perplexity. As if
someone was eating, and not being very discreet about it.
He put
the book down, carefully not making any sound.
Now, he couldn’t conceive that a
human being would eat that way.
It sounded more like an animal devouring its prey than anything else.
He
silently made his way through the Promenade Deck, cautiously searching. Then, he found it. Hidden under a bush, a darker green than the surrounding
plants. He pushed some branches away and looked
down, a deep frown forming on his brow.
That
was one of the Mogwai pods.
So.
This is where one of them came to form his cocoon, White
reflected grimly. The two missing Mogwai had stayed unaccounted for since the
discovery of the other pods, and that despite the fact that security had been
searching for them. They might not
have checked the Promenade Deck so thoroughly, obviously, but, White reflected,
this pod was very well hidden. It
blended perfectly into the bushes.
Still, here it was, found now. But
one was still missing, and the colonel could only imagine where it could be. He was just hoping that it would be
found too, eventually.
But at
the moment, that wasn’t what was concerning him the most.
The pod
he was presently looking at had hatched.
It was
eviscerated, covered and surrounded by a viscous, yellowish substance. The interior was distinctly visible, and
he could see that the cocoon was now nothing but an empty shell, its dweller
having left it – and very recently, if he was to believe the gooey footprints he
was seeing going away from the pod.
The
Mogwai – or whatever creature had been inside the cocoon – was now out.
White’s
frown deepened; although barely distinguishable, he couldn’t at all recognise
the footprints as being those of a Mogwai.
They were too big, too widely spaced, to begin with. He made a step
forward, in order to follow the tracks, and discover what manner of creature had
escaped the cocoon.
He
suddenly stopped in his tracks when he heard the eating sound again.
Closer, immediately to his left.
He turned in that direction and his jaw virtually hit the floor when his eyes
saw the transformed Mogwai.
It was
bigger than he expected. Much
bigger, at least three or even four times the size of a Mogwai; long, thin arms
and legs had replaced the short limbs of the original cuddly animal; extended
skeletal but obviously strong fingers were adorned with razor-sharp claws, and
the feet had similar sharp talons.
The bi-coloured fur had completely disappeared; in its place was a brilliant,
green and yellow, armour-like, scaled skin.
The head was particularly hideous, with its dark, brilliant, evil eyes
sunk under thick and heavy eyebrows, and a huge mouth, festooned with two rows
of very long and pointy teeth.
The
only things left, to give any indication that this creature had been a Mogwai
before, were the large, flag-like ears, which, although covered with scales,
were about the same size as those of the Mogwai, and which moved in a similar
way. For the rest… there was nothing in this new animal
that would urge a human being to take it in his arms in a cuddly embrace. On the contrary – any ordinary person
confronted with such a repulsive and dangerous-looking creature would feel the
very reasonable impulse to walk away as far as possible from it.
It was
crouched on a garden table, eating away the young growths torn from a nearby
blue cedar bush, which was already half destroyed by the obviously voracious
appetite of the creature – who wasn’t exactly being refined about it, as there
were bits of already chewed stems and leaves, mixed with a disgusting yellowish
slobber, all over the table’s surface.
White’s frown of revulsion at the sight changed to one of complete
outrage when he saw the creature finally sniff with disdain at the injured bush
– to turn its attention to a small tree, covered with new buds of white roses,
which was barely an arm’s-length away from it.
The creature reached for it and drew the large pot closer, and White
could hear it licking its lips in anticipation of what it might consider a very
satisfactory meal.
Surely…
the thorns will surely deter him from…
The
first white rose disappeared into the huge mouth, under White’s horrified eyes.
“Yum-yum…”
The
second rose was torn from the tree, the scales on the creature’s hand apparently
protecting it against the surrounding thorns. Colonel White’s anger rose and he saw
red; he walked with a decided step toward the creature. “Get the bloody Hell away from my roses, you repulsive
monster!”
The
creature turned around; so quickly that it nearly took White by surprise. He had not realised he was already too
close to it when it lashed at him with a vicious growl. He stepped back just in time to avoid the razor-sharp claws
ripping his throat. His eyes met
those of the creature, which then seemed to shine with the same amount of anger
he was feeling himself. White
stepped back again, not letting the creature out of his sight for one second. It jumped onto the ground and started
walking slowly his way, snarling, displaying his two impressive rows of sharp
teeth.
“Who do
you think you’re trying to frighten?” White mumbled.
A
second snarl was the answer to White’s question. The creature sprang up at him, feet first, talons extended;
White evaded them with a swift sidestep.
He found himself driven to the wall, not far from the door leading out. His hand instinctively reached for the
large security flashlamp that was hooked onto an embedded casing right next to
the door. He snatched it off its
hooks just as the creature was pouncing at him again; White used the heavy lamp
handle exactly like a club and swung it, hitting the creature in midair and
diverting the course of its leap.
With a
growl of angered pain, the wild beast rolled on the floor, back onto its feet
and turned around, snarling at his human opponent. Too late. White
had activated the powerful lamp and was aiming the light directly into the
creature’s eyes. The latter howled
and scowled in pain, stepping away.
“Bright light…”
White
wasn’t even surprised to hear the creature talk. “That’s right, ‘bright light’…”
With a satisfied expression on his face, White smashed the heavy lamp into the
creature’s face. That had a rather odd result, as he
witnessed the face being destroyed into a gooey, jelly-like substance – as if
the light from the lamp had melted the skin and even the skull beneath, as
quickly as warm sunshine would do to ice cream. The creature’s cry was brief as it fell to the floor, at
White’s feet. He watched as it
shook with convulsive spasms for a few seconds, before stilling itself. The colonel shook his head in disgust.
“If
Mogwai are sensitive to light, then it was a good bet you would be as well,” he
spat angrily at the dead body.
He
looked down at his lamp and shut it down, grunting. Now, I’m all for
exercise during break, but that’s more than I would like… He went to the table he had occupied previously, to
retrieve his cap, put it on and activated the mic to call the Control Room. If
the pod up here has hatched, then the others on base must have done the same, or
will do soon, he reflected. Those
creatures are dangerous. They must
not be allowed to run freely on Cloudbase.
“Lieutenant Green?”
He had
no answer to his call. Only static.
He tried again, with no more result.
An
impeding sense of doom hit him, and he rushed to the door.
And –
just to make sure that another transformed Mogwai lurking about the Promenade
Deck would not get to it and finish the job of the first one – he grabbed his
precious rose tree in passing, without even slowing his pace.
* * *
When Captain
Scarlet entered his quarters, he was feeling rather dejected. He had just left the officers’ lounge,
where, much to his annoyance, he had been witnessing Ochre and Blue hanging up
decorations in preparation for the scheduled Halloween party that same evening.
Scarlet thought the party was out of place, especially in view of recent events
on base, and he wasn’t too keen to participate.
Instead of imposing his bad humour on the others, he had then pretended a
headache, excused himself, and had left them to their preparations.
Removing his cap
and throwing it down onto the low table in his living area, Scarlet let himself
fall onto his sofa, with a big huff.
He wasn’t really angry with Ochre and his idea of a party – Rick had been
preparing this for days. He
realised his American colleagues just wanted to do something to take their minds
off the usual Spectrum business, so they could all relax – and probably Colonel
White thought it was a good idea, since he had given his approval – and had seen
no real reason to cancel it, even considering what was presently happening with
the Mogwai. Well, maybe
Scarlet would also join in the festivities himself, under normal circumstances,
but right now he didn’t feel like celebrating at all.
I never considered that Halloween was an occasion to rejoice, anyway, he
thought, trying to convince himself. A holiday to celebrate death, really… He pressed a button on his remote
control to power up the TV and sat down comfortably.
After a few seconds of zapping through the channels, he sighed deeply.
That wasn’t the
real reason why he was feeling so unhappy and he knew it.
We shouldn’t have that party in the first place. Not now, anyway. Not with all those… chrysalises everywhere – not while we
don’t know what is going on inside them and what will become of the Mogwai they
contain.
He grunted with
annoyance. That was but an excuse. The colonel himself couldn’t see any reason why that party shouldn’t take
place. There were security guards
watching the pods who would report any
change in them. That should have put Scarlet’s worries to rest, but it
didn’t. He was still feeling
uncomfortable about those pods.
Still, it wasn’t the reason why he was so
miserable.
Metcalfe, you’re nothing but a sentimental fool. You’re thinking about Gizmo. You’d grown stupidly attached to the
little chap, and you liked him a lot.
And you miss him, you bloody ninny.
He sighed, his
eyes distractedly set on the screen before him, his attention drawn to the
channel he had stopped at.
The Wizard of Oz was playing.
Scarlet grunted. Of course, he reflected. We
never got to finish it before this whole mess with the water started. Must still be held in memory…
A faint sound
caught his ear. He listened
intently, straightening up. What
could that be?
It sounds like… singing, but…
The sound stopped
and Scarlet kept listening, but heard nothing more. He prepared to sit back again on the sofa, thinking he might
have imagined it.
And the song
started again; there could be no more doubt about it.
It was the first
notes of ‘Somewhere over the Rainbow’,
hummed in a very sweet voice.
Scarlet stared at
the screen, but it was obvious it wasn’t coming from there. He turned on his seat; the sound seemed
to originate from the bathroom. And
there was no mistaking a voice that cooed like that.
A Mogwai.
“Gizmo?” Scarlet was on his feet before thinking
how improbable that possibility could be, and rushed to the bathroom door. He pushed the door open to find himself
welcomed by a small, almost frightened voice:
“Bright light! Bright light!”
“Lights down,
twenty percent!” Scarlet called
urgently; the computer automatically registered his order. Scarlet entered fully into the bathroom,
eyes wide with disbelief.
Sitting in the
sink, a couple of comfortable towels serving as bed and blanket, was Gizmo,
batting impish eyes at him, and moving attentive ears in his direction. The smile he offered was one of warm
welcome.
“Hi, Paul,” he said, his voice now calm.
“Gizmo! You’re alive!” Elated, Scarlet moved to take the small animal in his hands
and lift him from the sink. Gizmo
giggled, apparently tickled by the way his human friend was handling him. Scarlet took him back into the living
area, looking down at him with a dubious but overjoyed expression on his face.
“How come you’re
alive?” he asked, eyeing Gizmo suspiciously, gently putting him down onto the
low table and crouching in front of him.
“Wizard?” Gizmo asked, pointing to the television
screen, with obvious hope in his small voice.
“Maybe later,
Gizmo,” Scarlet replied, in an urgent but still gentle tone. “How did you escape? We thought you were
dead…”
Maybe he did die, he thought inwardly, unable to push the
suspicion away from his mind. I should be
careful… what if he is a Mysteron duplicate now?
But his sixth
sense had not registered anything wrong with Gizmo. Not that it was always
reliable, he knew that. There had
been nothing but burned fur in the Room of Sleep – nothing left of Gizmo. In all probability, the Mogwai should be
dead.
“Not Gizmo.” The words coming from the small animal
stunned Scarlet. He looked at the
Mogwai with plain doubt in his eyes.
It was as if he had actually answered him.
“Bright light… not Gizmo,” the Mogwai reiterated, as if trying
to make a point.
“What are you
trying to say?” Scarlet asked with
a frown. “That was not you in the
Room of Sleep?”
Gizmo shook his
head. Scarlet groaned in
exasperation. I can’t believe I am having a conversation with an animal… who might very well be a Mysteron!
Damn. Harmony
did say that Gizmo was capable of forming coherent phrases. And he had shown himself able to express
his feelings with words… Why
shouldn’t he be capable of thought processes too?
He was still suspicious – and still not willing to accept this theory.
“Was it another
Mogwai who died in that room, Gizmo?”
Scarlet asked. The Mogwai
nodded this time. Scarlet frowned. “Who?”
Scarlet nearly kicked himself for what he was
doing now, and how stupid it would look if someone was to open the door and find
him like this. It looks like I’m talking to blasted Lassie,
he admonished himself. Can I TRULY expect him to tell me what
happened?!
“Midget.” Scarlet stared at Gizmo with disbelieving eyes. The small Mogwai’s ears drooped, and he
looked very sad. “Midget… Bright light…Bye-bye…”
“Well, I’ll be…”
Scarlet suddenly looked grim. Now it was starting to make sense…
There was nothing left but a mass of burned fur in the Room of Sleep, he
repeated inwardly. Nothing left to properly IDENTIFY Gizmo, yes…
“There were two
Mogwai unaccounted for,” Scarlet reflected out loud, in a pensive tone. “Or rather, two cocoons less than the
amount of Mogwai we were supposed to have. Could one of those missing Mogwai be
Midget?” He looked at Gizmo again,
distractedly playing with one of his paws.
“I should still test you with a Mysteron detector,” he mused. “Just to be on the safe side. And then, if you’re cleared, we might
try to figure out exactly what happened in sickbay… how you got stuck in the
Room of Sleep and why the controls weren’t working properly when we tried to get
you out. And why everything exploded…”
“Snowball…” The quiet voice of Gizmo
attracted the man’s attention again. The Mogwai was still looking down, in much
the same sad way he had expressed earlier.
But this time, there was another expression in his big eyes. Something resembling fear. “Snowball
trapped Gizmo…” he said in a very faint voice.
“Snowball trapped
you in there?” Gizmo nodded. Scarlet grunted. Well, yes… that was a possibility. “Why?”
“Yum-yum…” Gizmo patted his belly. But this time, Scarlet was unsure what
he was trying to say. Seeing the perplexed expression of his human friend, Gizmo
started speaking his fast-paced Mogwai language. It was all gibberish to Scarlet and his frown deepened. He knew the language was based on
Mandarin, and he knew a little Cantonese himself, but, despite the similarity
between the two languages, he couldn’t make out anything the Mogwai was saying. It was still too different, and the flow
was too fast. He gave a sigh and
rose to his feet.
“I have to get you
down to sickbay,” he said finally.
“Have you tested by the detector – and see what Fawn can make out of all
this. Obviously you haven’t formed
a cocoon, not like the others…”
“Cocoon?” Gizmo repeated in an obviously questioning
tone.
“That happened
when the others ate after midnight,” Scarlet found himself explaining, almost
despite himself. “They turned into
those cocoons, and they’re probably metamorphosing right now as we speak…” He frowned.
Was he getting finally senile, saying all this to an animal – who was
looking up at him with a dumbfounded look, obviously not understanding what he
was saying? He grunted with
irritation. “Never mind that,” I
should call Control to let them know you’re here.”
He activated the comm.link but to his surprise, received nothing but
static. “Odd…” he murmured. He reached for his cap, put it on and
the mic swung down before his mouth.
Through the speakers of the cap, he could only hear crackling sounds… Curiouser still… It wasn’t all often that all communication systems would
be down at the same time… But
nevertheless, it was the case now.
Remembering how
Snowball and one of his Stooges had escaped from sickbay a couple of days
before, Scarlet suddenly had an idea.
He went to fetch his sports bag from the drawers under his bed and came
back, unzipping it as he did. He
put the bag onto the table, and then Gizmo into the bag, adding a towel so the
Mogwai would be more comfortable. “Seems like there is a major problem with the
radio. We’ll have to get down to
sickbay by ourselves, Giz, and tell them about you…” He smiled weakly as the
small animal raised his curious wide eyes to him. “I doubt you are a Mysteron – but I do hope you’re not and
that you won’t explode on me on your way down…”
“Gizmo, good boy,” the Mogwai replied with
an affirmative nod, obviously not having a clue what it was exactly Scarlet was
telling him – but apparently sensing that the English captain was concerned
about the general behaviour of his small companion.
“Yes, well… You stay in this bag until we reach
sickbay. Not a peep out of you while we’re in the
corridors.”
“Okay.”
Gizmo disappeared into the bag, pulling the towel over his head and
Scarlet, satisfied that the Mogwai appeared to want to obey his instructions,
zipped the bag closed. Then he put
the shoulder strap on, and adjusted it so the bag wouldn’t bump around during
the short trip to sickbay – which wouldn’t be very comfortable for Gizmo. He didn’t even consider going to the
Control Room – no doubt, he reflected, Colonel White wouldn’t be too happy to
see him bring a ‘potential Mysteron duplicate’ there.
And until they could be sure without the shadow of a doubt that Gizmo was
indeed… well… Gizmo, it would be a better idea to keep him out of view. Not to mention the fact that he had to
be kept away from bright light, anyway…
Scarlet opened his
door and stepped out of his quarters, to walk down the corridor toward the lift.
He stepped inside, and pushed the last button.
He felt the motion of the cabin as it started its forty-five-degree descent into
one of the Control Tower pylons toward the walkway inside one of the engine
nacelles. It was a long way down, but always a
fast, smooth ride, and Scarlet waited patiently for the cabin to reach its
destination.
He heard Gizmo
starting to quietly hum ‘Somewhere over
the rainbow’ in the bag. He
frowned and looked down.
“Quiet,” he
ordered. “Didn’t you promise you
wouldn’t make a sound?”
Scarlet thought he
heard the Mogwai answering that he was sorry, when the cabin came to a sudden
and rather brutal halt, which made him sway on his feet. He caught himself on the wall.
“Now what’s going
on?” he muttered.
A quick look at
the level indicator told him he had not reached his destination yet. They were just about halfway down.
The lights went
out. It took a few seconds before
the emergency lighting system came into operation.
The cabin was then filled with a faint, red-hued light. The English captain looked around in
puzzlement, and pressed the control buttons for the lift to continue its course. Up or down, none of them would work.
“Don’t tell me
we’re stuck in here,” he grumbled.
“Stuck?” the
muffled voice of Gizmo repeated from the bag.
“Keep calm, Giz,”
Scarlet replied quietly. “We’ll get
out of here soon.” He tried his cap
mic again, but it still wouldn’t work.
Neither would the comm.link of the lift cabin controls. All he was hearing was loud static. He tried the cabin emergency phone. It was independent of the standard comm.
systems and he was hoping it would work normally. He was relieved to hear a tone and then the very distinctive
sound indicating he had a line.
“This is Captain
Scarlet,” he said in a stern voice.
“I’m stuck in Control Tower Lift B.
There seems to be a breakdown.
I’d appreciate it if you would get me out of here as quickly as
possible.”
He waited a few
seconds, hearing only silence at first.
Then, a slow, raucous voice made itself heard, speaking his name, very
slowly, and with a slurred tone.
“Scaaaaarlettttt…”
He frowned. He didn’t appreciate this kind of joke
in the least. And he didn’t
recognise the voice, although he felt for sure it was a disguised one. No normal human would have a voice like
that.
“Who’s there?”
he asked angrily. “Is that you, Captain Ochre? I know it’s Halloween, but if this
is one of your annoying pranks, I don’t like it one bit. You’d better get me out of here fast!”
Only a
high-pitched laugh from the same voice answered him. Despite himself, Scarlet felt a shiver running up his spine. There wasn’t only one person laughing at the other side of the line. But
many. And the laugh was so loud that even
Gizmo heard it. The small animal
had found a way to undo the zip from the interior of his bag and was now peering
out at Scarlet with what seemed like a concerned look.
“Oh no…” Scarlet heard the faint murmur of Gizmo and looked down to see
the tiny head who had emerged from the bag.
He was about to reprimand him when there was a sudden jerk from the
cabin. That threw him down against
the wall, and he nearly let go of the phone.
“Scarlet, bye-bye…”
Scarlet had hardly
realised that it couldn’t be Ochre, nor anyone else playing him a joke, and that
his situation was a serious one, when he felt the cabin suddenly sliding down
the lift-shaft. The brutal motion
threw him to the floor. They were
descending at high speed, as if there weren’t any cables now to control their
descent.
The cabin would
crash any second now, when it reached its destination.
“Hang on, Giz!”
Scarlet tried his
best to protect the Mogwai from the impact.
It was so violent that the cabin walls, despite the high-density metal
from which they were built, were nearly crushed like the sides of a cardboard
box. All the electrical systems
sparked out, and electrical cables and metal plates fell off in pieces through
the ripped roof. The doors had been
torn, and were now half-opened onto the catwalk that had been Scarlet’s previous
destination.
The English
captain was lying in the middle of the wreckage, stunned by the impact, his mind
dazed. His right arm and head were
hurting; he felt blood trickling down the right side of his face. He coughed, and blinked several times
through the smoke and dust.
“Gizmo?” he
slurred, trying to get to a sitting position.
“Are you okay?”
He heard the
Mogwai cough faintly, and uneasily reached for the bag, to open it. Gizmo was shaking his head, much like a
small dog, to remove the dust from himself.
He looked up at his human friend.
For what it was worth, the Mogwai didn’t seem to have suffered at all.
He simply looked more annoyed than anything else to find himself so dusty.
“Paul okay?” the small voice asked with
what sounded like a tone of concern.
Scarlet offered a
faint smile. “I’ll be okay,” he
said, blowing a sigh. The intake of
breath sent a sharp pain through his torso and he grunted. Great… A concussion AND
broken ribs. I’ll be lucky if my lungs are intact… He pushed himself
up, very clumsily, supporting himself against the half-destroyed walls of the
cabin. Once on his feet, he swayed.
He was barely able to see straight. His concussion was more serious than he
thought.
“I’d better get
out of this trap,” he murmured to himself.
“And… take it easy, before going anywhere.”
He made his way
out of the cabin, pushing the doors open in order to do so, and stumbled, nearly
out of breath. He noticed how
unusually dark the catwalk was, with only the red emergency light lighting the
way – and no alarm horn ringing to announce the accident that had just happened,
as it should be. There was
definitely something going wrong around here, and Scarlet was starting to wonder
what exactly it could be. All of
this, added to that taunting voice he had heard on the cabin phone, had the feel
of sabotage.
Electric cables
were hanging down from the ceiling of the catwalk, apparently having been
damaged by the crash. Scarlet
started walking dazedly, cautiously avoiding the fizzling cables so as not to
get electrocuted. He moved away
from the cabin and toward a nearby comm.link, hoping, without really believing
it, that it would work. He needed
to alert security. He needed to
contact sickbay and the Control Room, to tell them what had happened.
“That crash was no
accident, Gizmo,” he told his small companion, whose head was now out of the
sports bag, watching with obvious unease as they made their way through the
damaged walkway. “No more an
accident than what happened to you in sickbay, I would bet…”
Scarlet had
cleared the cables and had nearly reached the comm.link panel when he heard the
guttural laugh behind him; he turned on his heels, that simple movement sending
a wave of dizziness through his head, and saw three dark silhouettes standing
not that far away from the destroyed cabin.
Scarlet’s hand automatically searched for the gun in its holster, but he
realised with dismay that he didn’t have it anymore – he probably had lost it in
the crash.
Damn.
Scarlet saw the
silhouettes moving slightly towards him, but keeping well out of the way of
cables that separated them from him; he could swear he heard an animalistic
growl emitted by one of them, and that made him frown. A flash from two sizzling
cables coming in contact with each other permitted him to get a better view of
his opponents. He froze, and his
eyes opened in disbelief when he was able to make out the outlines of three,
very horrible, scaled creatures, standing upright, and baring teeth and claws at
him.
Two of them were
dark green, and the other was a pale, dirty beige.
Scarlet saw the
ears. And instantly knew what he
was facing.
“Mogwai…” he
murmured.
“Gremlins,” Gizmo corrected from the bag. And his voice was trembling with obvious
terror.
Scarlet glanced
down at his little companion, but didn’t have time to wonder, as he heard a
snarl coming from the three creatures on the other side of the sizzling cables
and raised his eyes to stare at them anew.
The pale one was holding a gun.
His gun.
And was raising it
in his direction.
“Scarlet, Gizmo… bye bye!”
The growling,
menacing tone was enough to convince Scarlet that the creature knew how to use the gun and had every
intention of pulling the trigger.
He could do nothing to reach for the weapon without risking electrocution from
the cables; neither could he avoid the shot.
He turned, presenting his back, using his own body to protect Gizmo,
still in the sports bag, hoping that the demon holding the gun had a bad aim.
His hopes
disappeared in smoke when he heard the shot and felt the pain as the bullet tore
into his flesh. Then there was the
terrified squeal of Gizmo, filling his ears.
The second shot
was the last thing he heard and felt as he fell face-first on the floor.
* * *
Lieutenant Green had the nagging impression that things were far too quiet. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but
there was something in the atmosphere, something telling him that disaster was
going to strike soon. He couldn’t
know what of course… Maybe it was because it was Halloween
night, and that strange things could happen on Halloween night. Green wasn’t a superstitious man –
despite the fact that he came from the Caribbean Islands, where superstitions
played an important part in the lives of many people.
Seymour Griffiths wasn’t amongst them; he was a highly practical young
man, who would rather embrace the way of pragmatism and logical explanation
rather than put his faith in mythical nonsense and fallacious beliefs.
So far,
he didn’t have a precise opinion about the Mogwai – the way they were
multiplying, or why they seemed allergic to light, and why they had gone into a
state of cocooning when they had a small snack after midnight – it sounded so silly to him… What he knew was that habitually, when a creature went into a
chrysalid state, it was to undergo a metamorphosis – and that the changes occurring during a
metamorphosis like that were normally
dramatic. He was wondering what the
Mogwai would look like after they hatched from their pods.
His
ever-inquiring mind was curious, and he would have loved to see the first cocoon
open. He knew Doctor Fawn regarded
the Mogwai – and everything that surrounded them – as an oddity, while Colonel
White found they were nothing but an annoying distraction, even if he would
concede that they were rather unusual.
It had
been a few minutes since the colonel had been gone for a break on the Promenade
Deck; Captain Grey was on his way to the Control Room to temporarily replace
their commander, but had called in to report he would be delayed; apparently the
lift leading to Control was experiencing mechanical problems.
“It’s rather slow to arrive,” Grey
explained. “I wonder what’s going on…”
Green
made a check through his controls.
He frowned. “The escalator is also
not working”, he noted. “I’ll call
Maintenance to find out what’s going on. I’m sure it will be repaired quickly.”
“I’ll walk up the stairs, in the meantime,” Grey announced.
“I shouldn’t take long…”
Green’s
smile broadened. “You sure you can make it?” he teased. “Should I launch Angel One to pick you
up?”
Grey’s
quiet laugh was heard over the radio. “I can manage, Seymour. It’s hardly an S.I.R. situation! See you in a moment.”
“S.I.G., Captain Grey.”
After acknowledging Grey’s call, Green had
turned to his communication console to contact Maintenance and find out if they
knew about the problems and if they were presently repairing it. The first thing he noticed was that some
of the indicators on his console were blinking erratically. Then, there was a flash of sparks coming
from the transparent panel in front of him.
He frowned in perplexity, as he looked up. Was he dreaming or did he
just
see two eyes, distorted by the thickness of the glass plate, watching him from
the other side? He pressed a button
and his seat slid the short distance remaining to take him to the end of the
console, where he stopped it and began to rise to his feet, wanting to check
what it was he had seen on the other side of the panel.
A
beeping sound made itself heard on the communication panel and, without taking
his seat back, Green returned to check who was calling him.
Captain Magenta.
“Control Room…”
“Lieutenant Green,” the
voice of Magenta suddenly cut in, with an edge of urgency in its tone, “Put the base on red alert immediately! S.I.R.! Spectrum is Red!”
Green
frowned with perplexity. “Captain, what is happening? What…”
“The pods… The cocoons have hatched!
The Mogwai have morphed… Gremlins… They’ll be all over Cloudbase! We’re in terrible danger! Put the base on red alert!”
“Gremlins…?” Green repeated, opening unbelieving eyes.
“This is Halloween night, Captain.
Is this a joke?!”
“Do I SOUND like I’m JOKING?!” came the
urgent answer. “Alert the colonel… Close all airlocks to stop them spreading around the
base.”
The
communication suddenly cut off.
Green was still unsure if he was the victim of a very sick joke – it was
Halloween after all, and Captain Magenta was often the accomplice of Captain
Ochre in playing pranks on his fellow officers – but he couldn’t help feeling
unsettled by the insistence he had heard in the Irishman’s voice. And then, the contact had been lost, as
if someone was stopping Magenta from giving the alert. No, it isn’t a joke,
Green decided quickly. Not even Ochre and Magenta would go that far…
He
reached for the alarm button…
That
was when a loud growl, mixed with what sounded like an evil laugh made itself
heard. Something jumped from behind
the panel and pounced onto him with all the swiftness and strength of a wild
animal, and threw him backwards with such force that Green was projected a few
feet away from his previous position, and sent flying onto the colonel’s round
console. His back bent and he
grunted.
Green
opened his eyes wide with horror and mystification at the horrible creature now
standing on him, at the ugly scaled face with those sharp fangs, so close to his
own face. It was only the reflex of
lifting his arm that saved Green from having his throat ripped out, as the
incredibly large mouth, aiming for his neck, closed down onto his forearm
instead. The lieutenant cried out
in pain, and desperately fought to push the creature off him with his free hand.
From
the corner of his eye, he could see another one of those creatures jumping on
his now vacant seat and riding it all the way down his console. His eyes were widened with complete
shock; never in his wildest dreams or his deepest nightmares would he have
conceived ever encountering this kind of monster, which filled the most mythical
and darkest tales of his people.
Demons…Gremlins, Magenta
had said. Attacking Cloudbase.
He couldn’t believe it. And
yet here he was, with one of them standing on his chest, its talons tearing into
his thick tunic and painfully grazing his skin underneath, its teeth driven into
his forearm, while he was trying to keep its claws from striking him – while
another of those creatures was wildly playing with the controls of his station.
He felt
complete dismay when he saw the Gremlin pushing a particular button on the
communication panel.
“Launch Angel One…”
Green’s
gasped in astonishment. The Gremlin
had talked – with a high-pitched, growling voice, and with words that were
definitely human…
“S.I.G.,” came the voice of
Rhapsody Angel over the speakers, in answer to the order. Green nearly whimpered. She had been so eager to answer the
call, that she didn’t even recognise his voice. He struggled to free himself. He had to do something…
Rhapsody was calling back to report.
And Green, fighting to free himself from the creature, couldn’t reach the
controls.
“Rhapsody Angel in Angel One… Nothing to report but empty sky ahead
and around Cloudbase. Everything is
safe within a 20 mile radius.”
“No…”
he whispered.
In
desperation, he pushed the Gremlin away from him and succeeded in getting to his
feet. He rushed to his controls and
pressed a button on it, making the seat slide at its highest speed to the other
end of the console, taking the second, surprised Gremlin away from the
communications panel. Green quickly
leaned over the controls, just as Rhapsody’s voice made itself heard again,
through intense static:
“Cloudbase Control, do you copy?
This is Angel One calling…”
Green
fiddled nervously with the controls.
The Gremlin had already made a total mess of them. He finally pushed the radio button to
contact Angel One and shouted into the mic, to make sure she would hear him over
all the interfering sounds:
“S.I.R., Rhapsody Angel! Return
immediately to base! Repeat: return immediately to base! Gremlins onboard! Launch order has not…”
He was
cut off in the middle of his rushed explanation when the two Gremlins jumped on
him simultaneously. He yelped, as
sharp claws hit him and he let go of the console to fall to the floor, again
fighting one of these ugly creatures for his life.
Through
a haze, Green could see the other Gremlin taking his place in front of the mic
and beginning chanting mockingly, as if to taunt Rhapsody, who was no doubt
listening to it all on the other end.
He felt
his strength ebbing, and the foetid breath of the creature getting closer to his
throat.
He saw
the large green doors of the Control Room sliding open and Captain Grey striding
in… and stopping in his tracks, totally flabbergasted by the scene presenting
itself to his eyes.
“What
the Hell…”
His
hesitation lasted only a second and he rushed forward to Green’s aid.
“Captain, look out!” croaked Green.
His
warning almost came too late as the second Gremlin, hidden by the back of the
chair and whom Grey had not noticed, so taken was he by Green’s deadly
predicament, jumped off the seat and towards the newcomer. Grey caught it in mid-air, keeping the
huge mouth and sharp claws as far away as possible from himself.
“Hey
you!”
The
new, angry voice made its way through Green’s fogging mind; he recognised it
instantly and it gave him hope. His
eyes caught sight of Colonel White, who had apparently just come back from the
Promenade Deck, and who, standing over his aide and the Gremlin, was looking
anything but happy. The Gremlin let
go of Green to snap at the colonel.
The latter didn’t bat an eyelid and flashed a powerful light from a electric
lamp right into the creature’s eyes, making the latter squeal with obvious pain.
Then a violent kick sent the Gremlin literally flying off Green and across the
room. It crashed down on the floor with a
sickening thud, half of its body exploding under the impact.
“Leave
my people alone and get OFF my bridge!” White growled furiously.
In the
meantime, Grey had successfully grabbed his own opponent by the feet. Despite the creature’s incessant
attempts to free itself, Grey held on tight, and literally swung it with force
against the nearby wall, smashing the skull against it.
It opened up like an overripe pumpkin.
With a look of repulsion, Grey let go of the now limp body.
“How
gross,” he grunted, wrinkling his nose at the sight of the two dead creatures
lying around the room. “Where do those things come from!?”
“You really don’t have an idea, Captain? Those
are the transformed Mogwai!” White was helping Green to his feet; the young man
was shaken, and was obviously suffering from cuts and bites inflicted in the
attack, but he was alive, and otherwise well. “Will you be all right, Lieutenant?” the colonel asked in
concern.
“The
cocoons,” Green wheezed as his commander was helping him to his seat in front of
his station. “They have hatched…
Gremlins…”
“Gremlins?” Grey said with a frown similar to White’s.
“Captain Magenta… called from sickbay… just before I was attacked…”
“You should go to sickbay,” White
interrupted.
“I’ll… I’ll be all right… Just need to catch my
breath…” Green turned to his
station. “Angel One… They launched
Angel One…”
“They launched Angel One?” a confused Grey
repeated.
“Oh, my
God…” gasped Green again, looking with obvious horror in his eyes at the data
transmitted to him by his controls.
“Angel One has crashed…”
END OF PART 2
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