A sudden gust of wind, then another, then more tore at his face and body, threatening to pull him from his grip. He started to hurry but the steps had grown steeper and in his haste, his left foot missed a step and he slipped again. Quickly, he hauled himself to his feet and scurried up the final section.
At the top of the staircase, a metal hatch waited for him; set flush into the base of the telescope’s bowl which was, due to the telescope’s incline, directly above his head. Secured with a row of catches, it took Max seconds to thumb them all open, and he pushed it open.
The angle afforded Max the perfect view up into the disturbance. A light storm assailed his eyes and he raised a hand to shield them as they got used to the brightness. A cloud of light filled the space above the dish. Greens, blues, and lightning streaks of red.
The buzzing that Max had felt under the dish suddenly intensified, and he realised the storm was causing the vibrations. The low frequency sound waves were making him dizzy. Shadows danced across his peripheral vision like taunting ghosts. He shook his head, and grasped the ladder, dragging himself out on to the surface of the dish. The ivory tiles that coated the dish, reflected the light patterns from the storm, making the place seem alive. It was like he was trapped in the body of a jellyfish.
Sharp cracks fractured the night, and the red lightning increased in frequency, centring on the cloud. Max stared and saw a new source of light, more focused and intense than the rest of the storm. And with the new light source came a more violent wind. It howled around the belly of the telescope, ripping around Max and pushing him down like a drunkard. The tiles were hard against his knees and he winced.
What was this thing that Irulal had created? It looked like hell on earth. Could this be how it all ends? Not with world wars, or famine, but with a cataclysmic light show?
A tendril grabbed him around his neck and lifted him to his feet. He spun around, dropping the rifle as he gripped the silver arm, trying to pull it away from his body. The gun clattered on the tiles. Irulal perched on the edge of the bowl, tendrils stretched thin like ropes, but every bit as strong as they’d been last time. Irulal gripped onto the dish with the rest of her tendrils. The sides of the bowl were getting steeper the higher he went, and Max could feel his feet losing their grip.
“Glad you could make it,” she shouted above the noise of the wind. “Worried I’d lost you back there.” Her face glowed with the light patterns reflected on her skin. Max could hardly recognise her as the woman he’d married.
“Stop this. It’s not too late.”
“It is I’m afraid. The schism is growing under its own momentum now. Tearing a hole through the universe.” Max heard the excited anticipation in her voice.
She dragged Max higher until his feet eventually left the ground, and he dangled above the dish. He reached out for the tendril holding him, trying to reduce the strain on his neck, but the tendril squirmed under his grasp. Just when Max thought he would pass out, Irulal lowered him on to the edge of the dish and shifted the tendril from his neck, to a slightly more comfortable position around his chest.
“Best seats in the house,” he said, rubbing his neck. “Why are you doing this?”
“I’ve told you,” she said coldly, “It’s time for my people to return.”
Max looked around him, up at the lights, across at Irulal, and behind him at the telescope’s framework below. Escape didn’t seem like a viable option right now. Even if he could get out of her grip, where could he possibly run to?
“This light show,” he gestured at the lights.
“It’s a dimensional schism,” she said, gazing wondrously at her creation.
“Yeah, if you say so. Have you ever made one before?”
“No.”
“So, how do you know this is what it’s meant to look like?”
“I don’t. But I understand the science. And it’s perfect.”
“How do you know they’re going to want to come through?”
She looked like she hadn’t heard him correctly. “I’m preparing the way for them.” As if that explained everything.
“Yeah, I get that. Laying out the old red carpet. Blowing up a few balloons. Getting the drinks in. But why would they bother coming? Have they been sat waiting all these years for an invitation? Presumably, they know how to create these dimensional ball things. So, why haven’t they?”
A pause. Max felt the tendril shift around his chest. Had it got slacker?
“They left in a hurry. They might not think there’s any reason to come back.”
“So, like an email from that old university friend you just can’t get rid of, your schism’s going to be one hell of a surprise.
“A tremendous surprise.”
“And how long until it’s ready?”
“I don’t know. But soon. I can feel the energy building up.”
Max looked at the growing light ball at the centre of the disturbance and knew you didn’t need a connection with the schism to know that.
“I reckon it’s been about ten minutes. Seems a good while that. I’d have thought they’d have contacted you by now. Given you a poke.” Max could see the doubt in her face. “The way you paint this reunion picture, is that they’re all going to be ready to just jump on through. But they haven’t.”
“Yet.”
Max ignored her. “There’s been no sign of them. No slippy little tendrils poking their way through the gap to wave hello. No email to say how bloody brilliant it is that you’ve got in touch.”
“It will take time. The schism is still establishing. They will need to wait until it stabilises before sending anyone through.”
“Sounds risky.”
“It’s not risky. It’s science.”
The tendril coiled tighter around Max’s chest. He imagined it was like being suffocated by a boa constrictor. “Maybe they don’t think you’re up to the job. You said this is your first time creating one of these. If I were them, I’d wait for someone else to try it first.”
Irulal laughed. “What do you know? Have you ever created a dimensional schism?”
“No. But neither have you. Pot and kettle.”
“I see why she wanted to leave you. You are so argumentative.”
“I was going to leave her.”
Irulal shook her head. “She was building up the courage to go. Only she found out about you and that bitch.”
That hurt. Like a whiplash across his chest.
“You didn’t have to kill her. None of it was her fault.”
“She knew you were married?”
“Yes.”
“Then she got what was due to her.”
Max wanted to lunge at the creature. To hell with the schism blasting out light patterns above their heads. He was going to place his hands around her throat and squeeze the twisted life from her body. Only it was pointless. This thing before him wasn’t all Cindy. Jesus, he didn’t think it had ever been only Cindy.
“Cindy was psychotic.”
“I wasn’t.”
This was getting disconcerting.
The base of his skull tingled. Gingerly, he touched the affected area and winced.
“Feeling a bit under the weather, Max?”
“What is it? Something to do with that thing?” He pointed up at the schism. A stinging pain raked across his skin. Then the flesh rippled.
Irulal grinned. “That is stage two. My people are on their way. They’re sending the trigger signal. They’ve understood my message.”
Max clutched his chest. It felt like his skin wanted to pull away from his body. His face twitched involuntarily.
“They’re inside me aren’t they?”
“The nanites are inside everyone.”
Max felt sick. He wanted to rip his own insides out to get rid of the alien life crawling inside him.
“How could they be inside everyone? You’re lying.”
“It took time. A little bit of sea, and a whole load of weather. They’re dormant unt
il activated.”
“What’s activated them?” As soon as the words left his lips, Max knew the answer. He looked again at the nebulous inferno growing above the centre of the dish.
“Yes.” Irulal nodded. “They need vessels. The dimensional schism can do terrible things to flesh. It’s much safer to transmit your essence into a ready body.”
“We’re your ready to wear bodies? How many?”
“Many?”
“How many bloody bodies are you going to take?”
“All of you.”
Max banged his arms against the tendrils holding him in place. “No, you can’t do it.”
“Yes, we can. Think of it Max. The entire human race wiped clean. All your sins absolved. And even that won’t be quite enough. But you’re a race of breeders, a good source of fresh bodies. More will be born, and all will be taken.”
Max was exhausted. After everything, it was going to end like this. He fought the urge to be sick. The light from the schism hurt his eyes and blurred his vision. He wasn’t sure if it was the exposure to the light, or the nanites doing things to his body. Time was running out.
Then help came.
Max was looking in the direction of the tower at the centre of the dish, and caught a glimpse of movement on the floor. He glanced at Irulal but she was mesmerised by the disturbance. A head of yellow curls appeared through the hatch. As soon as she turned and Max saw that scared heart shaped face, he felt calm and terrified. He prayed that Irulal wouldn’t look down and did his best to keep looking ahead at the schism.
The blast of water hit Irulal hard in the chest, before shifting and settling on her face. Spray flew off her, and drenched Max.
Stacey stood a few feet from the edge of the hatch, her feet planted square against the tiled floor, her arms braced against her body, holding a fireman’s hose. A hose that was throwing gallons of water a second directly at Irulal.
The tension in the tendrils dropped, and Max easily pulled them apart from his body, just enough to slip out. The edge of the dish caught his face as he fell, and he pushed his arms out, twisting him onto his front. Behind him, he heard Irulal roar, and sensed movement.
“Stacey, get out of here!” Max yelled as he slipped down the curve of the bowl towards her. Stacey tried to keep her aim on the creature but without the element of surprise, she didn’t stand a chance.
Max heard the now painfully familiar scuttling. He lifted his arms and legs, hoping the momentum would take him close to the tower before Irulal reached him. But it couldn’t. A tendril whipped out at him, spinning Max onto his side, and bringing him to a dead stop. In a second he’d leapt to his feet. Irulal hurtled down the sides of the bowl, her face furious, her body soaked with the spray. A second tendril shot out and knocked Stacey off her feet, the hose dropped and pumped water uselessly onto the floor.
Stacey yelled in shock.
Max scrambled to his feet and ran towards his saviour. Irulal couldn’t turn fast enough, her speed pushed her past where Max had been. It wasn’t much, but it gave Max enough time to reach Stacey and yank her to her feet.
“Stupid girl,” he said, then kissed her on the forehead.
“Returning the favour,” she said, breathlessly, her hair now clinging to her face in wet curls, her t-shirt dangerously see-through.
Max averted his eyes and grabbed the rifle from the floor. In one swift movement, he directed it at the oncoming Irulal, and pulled the trigger. The first shot missed, but Irulal hesitated giving Max enough time to level his shot and try again. This time, when Max fired, he scored a hit.
Irulal howled in pain and fell on her side; the tendrils retracted.
“What the hell is that?” Stacey shouted at Max. The wind was still howling around them and making it hard to stay up-right.
“A doorway.”
“For what?”
“More of her.” Max gestured to Irulal, but she had vanished. Quickly, he scanned the area and saw her climbing the central tower. Why was she doing that, Max wondered? Then he looked closely at the tower and saw the small structures coming out from the top of the tower. Their slightly irregular shape belied their alien heritage. It was the same irregular shapes he’d seen in the control room earlier.
Max knew he had to stop the dish transmitting the signal. If he didn’t the whole world was going to change, lives affected. And that’s not even considering the alien invasion that Irulal was promising was about to happen.
Stacey screamed, and Max turned his head to look.
“What’s happening?” She held up her arm and Max could see the tell-tale ripples flowing across her wet skin.
“I’ve got to stop the transmission,” Max said. “I’m going up there.”
“You’re crazy,” she said.
“She thinks it’s important to be up there. I think I know why. I need to take out those adaptations she’s placed on the tower.”
“Shoot them.”
But even as Max lined up the rifle’s scope, he knew why Irulal had gone up the tower.
“She’s gone to protect them. I can’t get a clean shot, and I don’t have enough ammo to waste. I’m going up the tower.”
Before he could stop her, Stacey leaned over and kissed him on his cheek. “Good luck.”
And before he could talk himself out of it, he slung the rifle strap over his shoulder and raced to the tower at the centre of the dish. It reached up into the night, directly underneath the disturbance. Max stared up, shielding his eyes as best he could against the light thrown off from the schism. A ladder was built into the tower. Excellent. Without another thought, he grabbed the first rung and began to climb.
The wind was raging around the tower, tugging at his wet clothes and chilling him to the bone. Above him, he could see the top, only another twenty metres or so. Irulal was perched at the top. So far, she was preoccupied with monitoring the nanite constructs to notice him. As he climbed, it was impossible to not be in awe from the light show. The white orb at the centre had grown to roughly half the size of the dish itself; it was impossible for Max to work out the scale of these things. If this orb was the actual doorway, it was surely large enough to be usable. Red flares shot in front of and around the orb.
Half way up, Max paused and looked through the scope. It was no better from here. The tower’s framework was now in the way and even though he thought he’d be able to shoot at least one of the constructs, there was no chance he’d manage all three of them. The other option then, was to go for Irulal instead. But with limited ammo, he couldn’t afford to miss a single shot.
He kept his movements slow, which was a relief to his aching muscles.
He waited at the top of the ladder.
A small platform, no bigger than three metres across was at the top. And on that platform, Irulal waited. She was looking up at the schism; Max thought he could hear her talking. Has she made contact?
Max pulled himself up and pressed the point of the rifle into the back of Irulal’s head.
“Last chance. Stop it or I’ll blow your head off.”
“Max, always getting in the way.”
“You should have killed me while you had the chance.”
“There’s still time.”
And without warning, a tendril shot out and whacked Max on the shoulder, hard enough to drop the rifle to the floor of the platform. He had to duck as another tendril swung at him. Then he went on the offensive. He struck out with a right fist, and it connected with Irulal’s jaw. She winced. Max’s fist felt like it had just hit a brick wall. He dodged as her fist zipped through the air. But too slow, it banged into the side of his face. Pain seared his flesh.
Keeping moving was the only way he’d win this. He ducked to his right as another tendril lashed out. It stuck the centre of the tower and Max felt the platform wobble. Never letting his eyes from the rifle, he circled the centre spire. The wind kept punching at them. Max reached out for anything to hold on to. A tendril whipped around and caught Max’s abdomen.
Oomph.
He kicked out at the next tendril to strike, but it banged against his leg.
He was ready for the next one. With perfect timing, he leaped over it, then crunched his fist into Irulal’s face. She staggered back. He followed it with another to her chin, ignoring the pain in his hand.
“You’ve ruined my life for long enough,” he shouted at her.
A tendril whacked him from behind. Not expecting it, Max fell.
Irulal stood over him. Her top lip was raised in something resembling a sneer. “This is the end Max. Finally, this is it.” She raised a foot. Max could see that she meant to strike his face with it.
“Never,” he said, and rolled over as she stamped down hard on where his face had been a second before.
Before she could turn, he raised the butt of the rifle and smashed it down hard on her leg, enjoying the shriek of surprise from her lips.
“It’s time to shut this down.”
He swung the rifle round in a wide arc and it connected with the closest nanite construct. The structure cracked in two, the topmost piece falling away to the bottom of the dish.
“No!” Irulal screamed. “What have you done?”
She lunged for him but he brought his rifle up to his waist and fired a shot. It struck her in the abdomen and she fell. The tendrils writhed on the platform like she was lying on a bed of metallic snakes.
“I'm sorry,” Max said, aiming for her forehead.
He pulled the trigger. The tendrils dropped. Lifeless.
Her body twitched, then stopped moving all together.
Max looked in Irulal’s eyes and was surprised to see a peace that hadn’t been there for years. Tenderly, he closed them.
Destroying the construct was having a serious effect on the schism. The orb at the centre of the disturbance was pulsating alarmingly. Max dashed around the platform. Taking out the remaining constructs by swinging his rifle through the centre of each. This quickened the instability of the schism. The cloud of light started to shrink.
But a sudden pain across his face made him cry out in alarm. He touched the skin and felt to his horror ripples moving across it. The nanites were still active. And looking down at Irulal’s dead body, he realised that the only person who might have been able to reverse the damage was now dead. His hands were the same; ripples moving in regular lines.
The Face Stealer Page 30
