Battle for Earth (43 page)

“Where's Professor Bond?” said Johnny. “What have you done with him?”

“You know, I don't have the faintest idea. After we took this,” said Stevens, smiling and showing off the wristcom, “and I mastered his speech patterns—I loathe having to remain
in this disgusting, human form, but you see now why it was necessary—”

“Where is he?” said Johnny through gritted teeth. “I know he's somewhere on this ship.”

“This
ship
? Really?” Stevens laughed again. “When we first came to your star system, our Queen was not much more than a pupa. Perhaps you recall she was indeed once small enough to be smuggled away from our moon, which you call Triton, in a ship. But she has been gorging on human flesh for quite some time. Your species has one thing in its favor—at least you are nutritious.”

“Answer the question,” said Johnny. He felt sick.

“Oh, but I am,” said Stevens. “You asked if your professor was somewhere on this ship, but you see, Johnny, this is no ship. You are already inside our Queen.”

Johnny looked around, aghast, but it all made sense. Spaceships were often grown, not built, but this one felt even more organic than most. The vaulted ceiling he'd seen was part of a skeleton—the veins in the floors, exactly that. And it explained properly why the Krun fleet couldn't fold directly to Earth.

“So no one is ‘on board'—wherever he's gotten to, he's food of course. Eaten already, or bagged up in his cocoon, waiting in line. It hardly matters,” said the Krun. “Our Queen is hatching a magnificent invasion force.” He gestured to the lines of soldiers behind. “Soon all of your disgusting, stinking humanity will be food.”

“We'll fight you,” said Johnny, looking around, desperate for a means of escape. The far wall behind Stevens and the Krun army, what Johnny now knew was simply a giant piece of Krun skin, was bulging oddly outward.

“No, you won't,” said Stevens. “Most of the ships you stole from us have flown meekly into storage. A few others destroyed
each other—or themselves.
You
may have been able to resist our Queen, but the pure humans aren't so strong-willed. We reach Earth's atmosphere in four minutes, when a mighty swarm will be released. We'll get inside their heads—everyone will come willingly, eager to be devoured first.”

Johnny glanced at his wristcom. He knew it was true, that it was nearly all over. In just the short time he'd watched, hundreds more eggs had been laid, while vast numbers of the telepathic moths had streamed out from nozzles either side of the Queen's mouth. At least the blood flowing the other way had all but stopped.

“
Feed me
,” growled the all too familiar deep voice just behind Johnny.

“Our Queen complains she is hungry,” said Stevens. “That her food supply has been interrupted.” Johnny felt a smidgeon of satisfaction from his tiny, temporary victory. “Whatever you have done will be easily rectified,” the Krun went on. “It just hastens your own death. She doesn't just want live ones—she's been inside your head, Johnny Mackintosh. She wants your secrets. She wants
you
.” Stevens raised his arm, training a blaster on Johnny's face. At the same time, perfectly synchronized, hundreds of Krun soldiers standing behind him did the same. Before Johnny realized what was happening, a black pincer descended from above, grabbing his feet and plucking him into the air. He dangled upside down, still holding Bentley, as they swayed above the vat of batter he'd been dropped into once before.

“
I demand live ones
,” screamed the Queen. Johnny craned his neck and saw her huge mouth open wide, teeth chomping impatiently.

“And you shall have them, my Queen,” said Stevens, falling to his knees and prostrating himself on the ground.

Behind the prone Krun there was a bang and, from a tiny
hole in the far wall, shot a single jet of red liquid. As one, all the Krun turned, only for some of them to be showered with blood. A second bang saw a new jet of blood arc across the enormous chamber in a different direction, followed by a third and then a fourth.

“
Feed me now
,” howled the Queen. The pincers holding Johnny were released and he and Bentley began to fall toward the vat.

“What is this?” said Stevens from his position on the floor. The Krun turned to stare and, at that instant, the bulging wall gave way. A tidal wave of human blood, building since Johnny dammed the gulley, burst through, cascading into the cavernous chamber. “No!” shouted the figure on the ground.

Johnny was falling into the batter, about to be engulfed. The next second, he was falling upward to where he'd first come through the trapdoor. Desperately, he clung to Bentley as he folded the space between themselves and safety until it was just a tiny step. The last thing he saw was the giant red wave washing Stevens and some of the Krun soldiers into the Queen's mouth and straight down her throat.

It had worked. He'd taken himself and Bentley to the level above, where they rolled onto the floor. Krun were running from the room into which they'd unfolded, the insectoids' priority being to end the carnage below. Johnny and the Old English sheepdog were ignored. With Bentley, still recovering, cradled in his arms, Johnny stood up and ran toward and through the curtain of mucus into the chamber with the vaulted roof. Weighed down by his friend and weakened from the slicing of his soul, Johnny staggered along the rows of spherical black pods toward the gap in the far wall that led to the shuttle bay and safety, if only for a few minutes. It was no use. Unable to go on he fell face down, knowing it would make no difference if he never got up again. Freed from his grip,
Bentley was barking furiously and began licking Johnny's ear. Without the sheepdog to carry, Johnny got to his knees and then stood. Slowly he began walking between the pods, hands on his hips, but instead of bounding alongside, Bentley shot away, back toward where they'd dammed the river of blood.

“No—come back, Bents,” shouted Johnny. There were only three minutes left.

His friend stopped, turned and barked several times, before carrying on back through the curtain. There was no choice but to follow.

Johnny pushed through the net and instantly slipped on the sodden red floor. Like the husk he'd placed in the gulley, the curtain must have made a blood-tight seal. The small chamber had swollen with blood until the pressure became too much and something had to give. Where before there'd been the wall, there was now a gaping hole through which Johnny could see the scenes of chaos in the main hall. From his vantage point up above, it was clear the contours along the floor had been designed to funnel everything into the Queen's mouth. Thanks to the great wave of blood that had burst over them, carrying all before it, “everything” meant an awful lot of Krun soldiers. The Queen's craving for live ones had, at least for now, been satisfied, but order was already returning. Johnny knew they didn't have long.

Bentley was barking more furiously than ever. Johnny turned to see the sheepdog pawing at one of the many human cocoons strewn haphazardly over the ground. At first he didn't understand, but when he looked at the contours of the rigid figure encased in its shroud of Krun batter, it became suddenly familiar—down to the outline of a wide-brimmed hat.
Here
was Professor Bond. Johnny tried to pick the Australian up, but the man was too heavy, the floor too slippery and himself too exhausted. Even if saving Clara hadn't sapped his strength,
he doubted he could do this, but it didn't stop him from trying again. This time he raised the cocoon a little way off the floor, before slipping again on the blood-soaked ground and dropping the professor. “Sorry,” said Johnny, in case the Australian was alive and aware.

Bentley was growling in front of the curtains, which could only mean that the Krun were approaching. They'd come so close. The only escape he could think of was to try to fold them all into the shuttle bay, but he wasn't at all sure how—it was like trying to move the Atlantean ships off the seabed. He called Bentley over, knowing he could only possibly do it if they were all together. The Old English sheepdog didn't budge. Johnny shouted again, but knew it wouldn't work. Bentley was guarding the opening, making a last stand as the Krun approached. Nothing would remove the dog from his post. Johnny slumped exhausted over Professor Bond's body.

“Johnny … where are you? I have an idea.” It was Louise, speaking into her wristcom.

“It's no good,” said Johnny. “This thing's about to reach Earth. We're trapped inside. There's no way out.” The countdown told him there were only two minutes to go.

“Well, make one,” said Louise. “I can destroy it, but I'm not about to do that with you and Bentley inside.”

In the middle of everything, Johnny smiled at her optimism. “And Professor Bond,” he said.

“You found David?” said Louise. “That settles it. You get out of there right now.”

“It doesn't matter anymore,” said Johnny. “You have one short-range fighter and this … this thing's massive. What can you possibly do?”

“That's for me to know and you to find out,” said Louise. “What's happened to you? You never give up. It sounds like someone's cut all the fight out of you.”

That was exactly how Johnny felt, but hearing Louise's defiance bolstered him. “OK—we'll get out,” he said, though he didn't believe it for a second.

“Promise?”

Johnny hesitated. He hated making promises he knew he couldn't keep.

“Promise me, Johnny.”

“OK, I promise,” he said into the wristcom. He was about to lower his arm when he had an idea. There was no way he, Bentley and Professor Bond could all make it to the Starfighter, but maybe the Starfighter could come to them. A Krun blaster poked through the curtain, followed by a long, spindly arm. As the Old English sheepdog leapt and bit, Johnny tapped commands into the little device on his wrist, which he'd once before used as a remote control. There was a mighty explosion in the vaulted chamber beyond the curtain. Down below, in the great hall, the Queen screamed in pain. The charred, smoking body of the Krun Bentley had attacked fell through the curtain, accompanied by small pieces of debris. Johnny hadn't intended the weapons fire to be quite so powerful. The black Krun pods filling the room had been incinerated. Using the wristcom, he piloted the Starfighter through the gaping wound he'd created in the shuttle bay wall, having it settle beside the chamber they were in.

Seeing the ship so close gave him new strength. With a single, mighty effort, he hauled the professor's body onto the wing and pushed it into the open cockpit. Johnny followed, with Bentley jumping last into the crowded cabin. The engines roared into life and the Starfighter lifted into the air just as more Krun soldiers entered the blackened chamber. Johnny ignored them, knowing their puny blasters could never damage his ship, which had nearly repaired itself. Instead he turned the Imperial Starfighter toward the blitzed wall and the exposed
shuttle bay beyond. There was no sign of where he'd entered the Queen so he trained every weapon at his disposal on her outer skin and began to fire.

All guns blazing, he thought,
Forward, full acceleration
. If it worked, he'd blast his way through and out into space. If it didn't … By the time he'd even begun to consider that, he'd shot out like a cork from a bottle and could see the stars. He was free, but the Queen would enter Earth's atmosphere in sixty seconds. As he looked back at her, he realized each one of the black studs that he'd thought were cladding for the outer hull was a hungry eye, staring coldly at his retreating Starfighter.

“Johnny Mackintosh to Colonel Hartman,” he said into the comm. system. The Starcruiser with its hyperspatial charges were the only hope left. The Colonel had to see sense.

“She's gone, Johnny. At least I think she has. Flew straight into the Sun. The voice in our heads—it told them to do it.” Louise was sounding more her normal self, but something was wrong. He couldn't locate her ship—she was traveling so fast it was as though she was everywhere in orbit at once.

“What are you doing?” Johnny asked.

“I told you. I'm going to stop the Krun, once and for all. I can save the world too, you know.”

“Tell me how,” said Johnny. “I can help.” He was worried. There was something odd about Louise's voice. He glanced again at his wristcom and saw there were only thirty seconds left.

“No way,” she said. “I thought of it first. It's Einstein—relativity. You see, the faster I go, the heavier I become. I've been slingshotting around Earth, getting quicker and quicker, heavier and heavier. I'm ready now.”

“Ready for what, Louise?”

“I want you to promise me something, Johnny.”

“Ready for what?” he said again, but Louise was in full flow.

“You see, Rusty doesn't like all this space travel nonsense. She's a bit of a home girl—like me, really. I want you to promise me you'll find her a good home. Maybe somewhere near a nice park.”

“Don't talk like that,” said Johnny. He was panicking. There were only twenty seconds to go.

“Promise me,” said Louise.

“This is mad,” said Johnny.

“Promise.”

“Of course I would, but …”

“You see, I know I'm not exotic enough for you, Johnny.”

“What?” She was really scaring him now.

“Maybe if I'd come aboard when you first asked, but I like Earth. It's enough for me. That's why I have to save it. I'm not like you. I don't have to see the universe.”

“What are you talking about, Louise?” Bentley barked close to his ear. The countdown reached ten seconds.

“Goodbye, Bents,” said Louise. There was a pause before she added, “I love you, Johnny.”

The bulbous, gigantic Krun Queen crossed the point where Louise, at close to light speed, was orbiting Earth. Traveling so fast, the small Atlantean fighter had become as massive as the object in its path—a relativistic bomb. The two collided in an almighty explosion. The blast wave hit Johnny's Starfighter hard, tossing it out into space like a twig caught up in a hurricane. He could do nothing to help as he tumbled past the gray Moon and on, battling to hold the Imperial ship, with its two passengers, together.