Graydon’s eyes were bloodshot, crazed with broken capillaries. Red marks showed where Kahlo’s fingers had dug into his neck.
“Jones won’t be able to save you,” Dev went on. “You’re not going to be transcribed and uploaded. You’ve got nothing to look forward to except oblivion, like the rest of us. On the other hand...”
He paused, trying to gauge Graydon’s state of mind. How much did the man want what Ted Jones had promised him? Could Dev convince him there was a chance he might still get it?
“On the other hand, I’m willing to consider letting you live, on condition that you tell me what I need to know.”
“If I tell you...” Graydon’s voice was squeakily hoarse, each word having to be forced out through a traumatised trachea. “If I tell you, you’ll kill Ted. Where’s the benefit for me?”
“Oh, I’m going to kill him all right. But you get to live, and perhaps then we can come to some sort of accommodation. Hand you over to the Plussers, maybe.”
Graydon looked sceptical. “You’d do that?”
“It’s a possibility. It’s the best offer you’re likely to get. I’d take it if I were you.”
“I have no reason to trust you.”
“No, but since I’m all that’s standing between you and extinction, trust really isn’t the issue. It’s more a case of what else have you got?” Dev pointed at Kahlo. “She’s seriously pissed off at you, and I’m not exactly your biggest fan right now. She wouldn’t stop me throwing you off that balcony, I don’t think, and I know I wouldn’t stop her. I’m hoping you’ll realise that ratting on Jones is your only shot at salvation – in every sense of the word.”
Graydon gave it some thought.
“Hurry up,” Dev said. “Time’s short.”
“I think I’ve made up my mind.”
Graydon stood, smoothing out his rumpled shirt collar and readjusting his tie. He headed for the balcony.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” said Kahlo. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“How else can I identify Ted Jones’s moleworm host form for you, if not from out there?” said Graydon reasonably, as he hit the control to open the picture window.
The noise of conflict, no longer muffled by soundproofed glass, flooded the room.
“Okay,” said Dev. “You have a point. Glad you’ve seen sense.”
“Oh, I have,” said the governor, pivoting round on the spot. “And Ted is pretty hard to miss, as you’re about to discover.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Looks a lot like this.”
A taloned paw appeared, clutching the balcony parapet; a moleworm paw, three times bigger than average.
Another joined it, the claws cracking the stonework.
A vast head lurched above the parapet, nasotentacles like boa constrictors writhing and wriggling. Eyes the size of basketballs peered palely, malevolently, as more of the creature clambered into view.
The giant moleworm slithered fully onto the balcony, letting out a rumbling, satisfied growl.
“Now,” Graydon said with a smirk, “perhaps you’d like to tell me again, Harmer, about my only shot at salvation?”
48
DEV COULD HAVE kicked himself.
At some point during their conversation – probably as Graydon was ushering them back into the office through the picture window – the governor had sent out a distress call to Ted Jones. Much of what had followed, including the confession, had been a stalling tactic. Graydon had been giving Jones the time he needed to break off from commanding the moleworms and come to his rescue.
The giant moleworm now crouched behind Graydon like some enormous, hideous guard dog. Within its brain was the imprinted essence of Jones, his sentience overwriting the creature’s. Jones had engineered an ordinary pseudotalpidae to grow larger than any of its kind, tweaking the pup’s DNA as it developed, and installed a transcription matrix inside it as a portal, giving him access into its head at any time.
It was both his personal steed and field marshal of his moleworm legion.
“Impressive, don’t you agree?” said Graydon. “First time I’ve seen the beast myself, but it fair takes one’s breath away.”
“Couldn’t have put it better myself,” said Dev. “If you’re talking about how bad it smells, that is.”
“Ah, those will be the pheromones. That’s how Ted is controlling the other moleworms. He’s communicating with them by means of scent. It allows him to give extraordinarily precise commands, to which they respond with total and utter obedience. That and his sheer size has them kowtowing to him like slaves to an emperor.”
Graydon paused, head slightly cocked.
“He wants a word with you, Harmer. He says the trick with the scroach sounds was a good one. It almost worked. Regaining mastery of the moleworms took effort. Bravo.”
“Well, you tell him thanks, but this isn’t nearly over. I’ve got other tricks up my sleeve.”
It took a moment to send the message and receive a reply.
“Ted says you’re bluffing. You have nothing left. You’ve given it your best shot, and it wasn’t enough.”
As if to underscore the statement, the giant moleworm moved its head up and down in a clumsy, grotesque approximation of a nod.
“If you ask me, it’s Jones who’s given it his best shot and failed,” Dev said. “He’s revealed himself. We know which moleworm he is now – the big, unpleasantly smelly one. He might just as well have painted a dirty great bullseye on his back.”
“How is that going to help you, Ted wants to know? So what if you’ve seen him? You’re at his mercy, and he says... he says he’s looking forward to crunching on your bones and sucking out the marrow.” Graydon mimed a shiver. “How gruesome.”
“That sounds more like a moleworm talking than a Plusser.”
“Ted’s simply made himself at home in that host form. He has adapted to its tastes and urges. He wants to assure you that that’s only going to be a temporary state of affairs. The predatory mood will pass once he’s finished consuming you.”
“Will it?” said Dev. “Look at that thing he’s in. It’s a giant carnivorous eating machine. I don’t think Jones will be satisfied with a single ISS consultant, delicious though I’m sure I am. I think he’ll find that he develops a liking for human flesh. Maybe he’ll even get it into his head to snack on you, governor.”
“All he’s doing now is laughing, Harmer. It seems he finds you hilarious.”
“That’s nice. I find myself hilarious too. What I also find hilarious is having a conversation with a moleworm through you, Graydon. Governor of Calder’s Edge, and you’re like a messenger boy. It’s not very dignified, is it?”
A scowl formed briefly on Graydon’s face, but he erased it, his customary placid demeanour reasserting itself.
“He says I’m not to listen to you. You’re a troublesome and annoying gadfly. His very words. And he says you talk too much, especially when you can’t think of anything better to do.”
“I’m just trying to make the point, governor, that I don’t think Jones holds you in very high esteem. He’s the big daddy on the block, and you’re just his bitch. In fact, I reckon once you’re no longer useful to him, he won’t have any qualms about getting rid of you.”
“Don’t be absurd,” Graydon snorted. “We have a deal. He’s promised to make me a Plusser. He’s not going to renege on that. If I mean so little to him, how come he climbed all the way up here when I asked him to? Answer me that.”
“You told him I was here?”
“Of course.”
“Then there’s why. He didn’t come to rescue you. He came for me.”
“Nonsense.”
The moleworm inched ever so slightly closer to the governor. Its immense fleshy tail curled in a menacing fashion, and its sphincter-like mouth widened a little like the iris of an eye dilating.
“Ever thought your pal Jones might be lying?” Dev asked.
“Why would he lie?”
�
��Oh, I don’t know. Perhaps because he’s a Plusser saboteur and they tend to be slimy, backstabbing bastards who use people like toys and who’ll say or do anything to get what they want. A bit like politicians, come to think of it.”
Graydon chuckled condescendingly. “He’s initiated me into his faith, Harmer. We have a bond. One believer would never deceive another. It’s written in the Great Code: ‘The Singularity abhors any who would wish ill upon or do harm to a fellow devotee.’”
“Dad,” said Kahlo. “Do you have any idea how it sounds, you spouting quotations from the Great Code? It’s sick and it’s wrong.”
“I wish you could understand, Astrid. I wish you could join me and share in my newfound faith. I can’t imagine anything better than my daughter spending eternity with me. It could be arranged. Where Ted has made one convert, he can undoubtedly make another.”
“It’s not too late, Dad. You can still come back to us.”
It was a last-ditch effort to bring Graydon to his senses. It was sincere, it was earnest – and it fell on deaf ears.
“No, Astrid. I have made a commitment. I’ve given up on human things – the human race. I can’t go back. It is too late. Ted agrees.”
Graydon’s eyes narrowed. He looked perturbed all of a sudden.
Then he spun round to face the giant moleworm.
His whole body was trembling.
“This is...” he said. “This is... No!”
The moleworm crawled closer, its snout now within a few feet of Graydon – easy grabbing distance for those long nasotentacles.
“Graydon,” said Dev. He had a nasty feeling he knew what was about to happen. He had more or less predicted it.
“I’m not...” Graydon said to the moleworm. “You can’t...”
“What’s it doing?” Kahlo asked Dev.
“I helped you!” Graydon yelled. “I gave you this planet on a plate! You promised me a place with your people in return.”
“Reneging,” said Dev, unsurprised.
The nasotentacles lashed out, enfolding Graydon’s limbs, spread-eagling him. The governor struggled, but he was held fast.
Kahlo started forward, but Dev caught her by the wrist.
“Let go of me.”
“No. There’s nothing we can do. Unless you want to get yourself killed, too.”
“He’s my father.”
“He’s a man who made a pact with an enemy who despises everything we are, and now he’s discovering what a mistake that was.”
“Still.” Kahlo drew her mosquito with her free hand and fired.
The giant moleworm didn’t seem to feel the dart, and the neurotoxin had no apparent effect. The creature was too large, its hide too fatty and thick.
Relentlessly, the moleworm drew Graydon towards it. Its mouth snapped and slavered.
“You can’t say that!” Graydon was so hysterical, he could no longer distinguish between ordinary speech and commplant communication. He was shouting aloud the same words that he was transmitting to Jones. “I may be human, but I’m as good as you are. I believe, like you. Don’t do this. What about the Code? The Great Code?”
The moleworm’s maw gaped ever wider, until it was fully large enough to swallow a person whole. Every fang was like a sickle blade. A foul, fat tongue lurked within, corkscrewing with glee.
“No!” Graydon cried. “This is not fair. Not fair! You can’t take it away from me. It’s all I’ve got. I believe. I believe! I belieeeeeee –”
The protestation of faith became a shrill, rising shriek as the moleworm twisted its head sideways, clamped its teeth around Graydon’s torso and bit hard.
Graydon’s trunk imploded under the pressure of its jaws. His arms and legs jerked and contorted. His scream cut off abruptly.
Kahlo let out an appalled moan.
The moleworm reopened its mouth, which was now gore-stained and rimmed with gobbets of Graydon’s flesh. Still supporting the governor’s body with its nasotentacles, it pulled in four directions at once. Graydon’s mangled remains were quartered; tendons snapped like elastic bands, bones were sundered. A clump of entrails hit the balcony floor with a heavy splash.
Dev yanked on Kahlo’s arm, hauling her indoors. She stumbled after him, dazed and aghast.
The moleworm threw the pieces of Graydon aside and gave chase. The picture window was slightly too small for it, but it barged through regardless, smashing out part of the wall. It hurtled across the governor’s office, scattering desk, chairs, ornaments in its eagerness to catch the two escaping humans.
Dev raced through the door to the antechamber beyond. The elevator lay on the other side. He slapped the button to summon it.
Behind them, the moleworm thrust itself into the doorway. Its tapered head cleared the frame, but the rest of it was too wide. Nasotentacles stretched out across the antechamber, writhing towards Dev and Kahlo, groping for them.
Dev flattened himself against the elevator doors, hugging Kahlo to him.
The nasotentacles were centimetres from their faces, tips close to touching. But they were at full extension; the moleworm could not quite reach.
Howling in thwarted rage, the creature dug out the wall surrounding the office doorway. Its claws made short work of the hewn rock, crumbling it like so much cooked pastry.
The elevator doors opened with a ping, and Dev dived inside, with Kahlo. He hit the button for the foyer, and the doors slid shut.
A fraction of a second later, the moleworm hurled itself against the doors with an almighty crash. The entire elevator shaft shook, and the car shuddered as it descended.
There was another crash, and something screeched – roller wheels grinding against their guide tracks.
A third crash, more metallic screeching, and Dev thought the elevator car was about to get stuck in its shaft. At the very least, the automatic emergency brakes might deploy. Then he and Kahlo would be sitting ducks, trapped inside a steel box that the moleworm could easily dig down to and peel open.
But they continued descending, and came to a juddering halt down at the foyer.
The police pod was parked right outside the main entrance. Dev sprinted to it, still pulling Kahlo along.
As he lifted the pod’s gullwing door, he looked around. No sign of the giant moleworm, but Jones wasn’t likely to give up that easily. Either he would pursue them down the elevator shaft and across the foyer, or he would double back through the office and come down on the outside of the rock arch.
“Quick,” he said to Kahlo. “In.”
“I’m okay,” she said. She didn’t sound okay, but at least she was talking again. “You can stop hauling me around like a sack of potatoes.” She wrenched her wrist out of his grasp. “I’m over the shock. I don’t need babying.”
“Who’s babying?” Dev replied. “I just want to get away from here as fast as possible. Jones will work out where we are and he’ll –”
The giant moleworm lumbered down from above, head first. Its talons were like a mountaineer’s picks, securing toeholds for it in the sheer rock. Its nasotentacles shot out.
Dev, at the same time, bundled both himself and Kahlo into the pod.
The snout feelers followed them in like a bunch of rubbery, prehensile cables, still striped with Graydon’s blood.
Dev kicked at them, and heard the moleworm yip in pain. He kicked again, pedalling with both legs, hammering as many of the nasotentacles as he could with his heels, even as they slithered and writhed around him, smearing blood over his legs and the interior of the pod.
Meanwhile, Kahlo started the pod up. She pushed the acceleration lever forwards, and the little vehicle started to rise.
One of the nasotentacles got a firm grip on Dev, latching around his ankle. A sharp tug yanked him halfway out of the passenger seat.
Kahlo grabbed the collar of his overalls, and there was a brief tug of war between woman and moleworm, with Dev as the rope.
The moleworm was stronger, however, and the stitching on Dev’s
overalls none too robust. The garment ripped, and Kahlo was left holding just a strip of torn material.
Dev braced one foot against the frame of the door to prevent himself being heaved out of the pod. But the moleworm simply dug its claws into the platform floor and hauled harder.
Dev’s only recourse was to reach for the door handle and pull. The door slammed down, trapping several nasotentacles between edge and frame – including, of course, the one fastened around his leg.
He felt its hold loosen just a fraction.
He reopened the door part-way and slammed it down again with all his might.
This time the moleworm emitted a ragged scream that was horribly human-like. Two of the nasotentacles were severed almost the whole way through. Another three were squashed and kinked.
Dev gave the nasotentacles a third and final bashing with the pod door, managing to cut through one of them altogether.
The tentacles relinquished their grasp and withdrew. Kahlo goosed the acceleration lever and the pod leapt forwards.
Dev swivelled in his seat to see the moleworm tossing its head in distress, its injured nasotentacles swirling limply like willow fronds in a breeze.
The creature glared at the departing pod with intense hatred in its eyes.
Dev expected Jones might give chase, but the Plusser must know that a moleworm, even a giant one, could not match the pod for speed.
Sure enough, the moleworm didn’t pursue them. Instead, it performed an about-turn and scurried down the side of the rock arch all the way to the cavern floor.
“Where are you going, Jones?” Dev mused aloud. “Trying to head us off somewhere?”
But the moleworm seemed to have something else in mind. It raised its head, and all at once several dozen of the lesser moleworms appeared, answering a pheromone summons. Some surfaced from below the ground, others scuttled in from the surrounding streets. They congregated around their leader in an eager, fawning throng.
World of Fire (Dev Harmer 01) Page 30
