“Holy hell, look. It’s killing him.”
“No, no!” Baldron slapped the creature’s bulbous mid-section with the glove. His Decapidisc kept his neck and head inches from the floor, rolling side to side. It also protected his neck from the sharp talons as they jabbed away at his face and neck, “Help me, p-please!”
The creature roared into his face, rippling his skin up the front of his face.
“Gah, gah, please,” Baldron rolled his neck along the rim of his disc and looked at Jaycee, “P-Please, shoot it.”
“I will,” Jaycee looked up from the sight on his gun, “Just as soon as it kills you.”
Tripp looked away, somewhat resigned to the execution that was about to take place.
“Gimme that gun,” Tor gripped the barrel of Jaycee’s K-SPARK and tried to pull it away from his hands, “Shoot that thing, it’s going to kill him.”
Jaycee winced and booted Tor in his gut. The man tumbled bounced against the door, “Get off me.” Jaycee swung the gun back at the creature. It lifted the first two of its mangled, black limbs and fanned out its talons.
STAB-SHUNT-CLAMP!
The sharp ends pinned Baldron to the ground on his back. It lowered its razor sharp teeth-filled slit down to his face and roared once again.
“Okay…” Baldron convulsed with fear, “If… if I’m g-going, you’re coming with me.”
He gripped Jaycee’s glove in his right hand and punched the creature in the throat, releasing it deep inside its throat.
The beast shunted back on its limbs as the ship tilted forward, trying to pull away from Pink Symphony’s sandy surface.
The horizon shuddered in the background, wading around, suggesting the ship was struggling to take off.
Tripp, Jaycee, and Tor stumbled away from the door and hit the wall. “Damn it.”
The creature munched away on Baldron’s glove. The ship tilted back, rolling Baldron out from under the creature and sliding along the control deck floor.
“Comrade!” Tor flung himself up the raised length of the ground and caught Baldron in his arms.
“Hey, you two,” Tripp shouted at them as he clung to the door. His feet drifted into the air as the ship tried to launch, “Enough lessense, get over here.”
Jaycee peered through the window in the door. The corridor seemed clear enough, “We gotta get to Medix and protect the others.”
“Jaycee, open the door,” Tripp shouted over the combined deafening sound of the creature’s squeals and the ship’s thrusters, “Now!”
Jaycee waved Tripp through as the door slid open. He swung his gun back at the creature and prepared to blast it to pieces, “Come on, you ugly spider-looking bag of puke. Let’s do it.”
CRUNCH!
The creature’s mouth crunched Jaycee’s glove, spitting out strips of fabric. It nestled against the flight deck and roared again.
“Thank God,” Tor said to Baldron, “Let’s get out of here—”
Biddip-biddip-beeep…
Three white lights lit up on Baldron’s Decapidisc. He gasped and tried to pull it away from his neck, “No, no, no…”
Tor looked at the creature. “Oh no.”
GULP! The creature swallowed the glove and spat the plastic activation button to the ground. It spun around on its axis and fell on its side.
“Help me!” Baldron screamed and pushed away from Tor. He ran through the vector image of Opera Beta, toward the beast, tugging at the metal disc, “I’m going to die!”
The creature spread all twelve limbs across the floor, ceiling, and walls, looking for all the world like a fleshy spider-cobweb.
Beep-beep-beep...
The three white lights flashed on Baldron’s Decapidisc. The creature widened its mouth behind Baldron as he squealed for the last time.
“Comrade, p-please,” he begged Tor slumped to his knees.
“I c-can’t,” Tor squealed, utterly helpless.
Biddip, biddip, beeeeeeeeeep. The three indicators flashed faster and faster.
The Decapidisc vibrated around Baldron’s neck. The blades within the metal housing spun to life and produced a whirring sound.
Baldron accepted his fate and closed his eyes.
SCHWIIRRR-SCHUNT.
The disc rocked gently around Baldron’s neck. He lifted his head and looked at Jaycee with sadness, “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, you keep saying that.”
Jaycee thumped his thigh compartment open with his fist. A red dumb bomb fell into his palm just in time for him to scowl at Baldron in his last seconds.
A comforting smile stretched across Baldron’s mouth. His eyes, nostrils and mouth released a fountain of pink liquid. His head wobbled atop his shoulders for a couple of seconds.
The ship adjusted itself, throwing Jaycee and Tor to the left – and Baldron’s freshly severed head from his shoulders. The opened, lively Decapidisc clanged to the floor – mission accomplished.
“Go to Hell, you sonofabitch.”
“Who are you talking to?” Tor asked.
“Both of them.”
Jaycee hurled the dumb bomb at the creature. It unlatched its limbs from the wall and made for Jaycee and Tor. It screeched at the top of its vocal chords.
The bomb flew into its open, wailing mouth.
“Run,” Jaycee grabbed Tor’s sleeve. “C’mon, let’s go.”
Tor trained his eyes on Baldron’s severed head and neck. It spat orange sparks and protruding sparks across the floor. Baldron’s severed head rolled against the flight deck, in between the creature’s limbs.
“What—? He’s… he’s not—”
“Yeah, another Androgyne Series Three unit. Sucks doesn’t it?” Jaycee pushed Tor through the door and jumped after him, “Finding out you’re one of them can really screw up your day.”
The creature pushed itself forward just as Jaycee slammed the door shut on one of its limbs. Its squeals muffled violently behind the sound-proof window.
Jaycee took the opportunity to watch the impending execution, “Look at it, Tor.”
“Wh-what?”
“That’s one angry mother—”
KA-SCHPLATTT!
The beast exploded, painting the entire control deck with pink gore and charred remains.
“We… we gotta get out of here,” Tor held his hand to his mouth like a frightened child.
“Damn straight,” Jaycee bounded up the corridor and turned the corner.
Tor double-took and followed after him, “I need a gun.”
“Ha! Very funny,” Jaycee bopped him on the back of the head, “The only way you’re getting a weapon is if you use it on yourself.”
“Jaycee?” Tripp’s voice shot through Jaycee’s headset, “I’m at the Primary airlock. They’re everywhere, man.”
“Tripp?” Jaycee ran across the corridor, “Everywhere?”
“Those creatures. Listen, do not come here. Get to Medix. Bonnie and Wool are there with Jelly. I can’t hold them off. Both airlock doors are damaged.”
“But, we’re taking off?” Tor muttered, “If we hit orbit… hell, if we leave its atmosphere, all the air will get sucked out—”
“—Understood.” Jaycee turned left and made for the bank of descending stairs, “Come on, Viktor. We’re heading to Medix…”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
A holographic scan of Jelly’s brain projected from Wool’s thumbnail, which sat on the central desk. The left and right hemisphere glowed red and blue, respectively.