The steam burned on Eddie’s cheeks as the creature closed in again. He rolled desperately to one side. But this time the beast anticipated him. Its metal jaws opened wider than Eddie could have believed was possible. The head slammed down, teeth thudding into the ground either side of Eddie’s head.
Then — nothing.
The creature seemed to sigh. The steam drifted away, as if dispelled by the shafts of dawn light that were breaking through the fog above the dew-drenched lawn.
‘Are you all right in there?’ George called from the other side of the creature’s head. Now it was just a mass of metal and bone, like an exhibit in the British Museum, or one of Lorimore’s dead display animals. ‘Shan’t be long,’ George called. ‘Just a few adjustments, though I confess I don’t understand the half of how this works, how it is controlled. It must have some reasoning ability of its own and we know it can see and smell. But there are a few things I can do. Then it needs to get up steam again, which will take a few minutes. I had to open the safety valve and relieve the pressure.’ He was shouting to be heard above the rumble of thunder. The first rain was starting to fall.
Eddie ignored him, concentrating on crawling and clawing his way out from the monster’s mouth and into the pallid light. He sat shivering in the mist.
‘There, that should do it.’ George sounded pleased with himself, wiping his hands on his coat as he jumped down to join Eddie. ‘Ideally I’d have scuppered it completely, but all I can do now is vent the steam. Once the pressure builds up it’ll be off again. Albeit with some adjustments, a few re-routed pipes and doctored valves.’
Eddie’s voice was trembling almost as much as his body was. ‘It’ll have to do,’ he assured George.
Just as the shots rang out, and one of the smaller panes of glass in the laboratory shattered and fell.
‘Any moment now, I reckon,’ Eddie said.
George nodded. He glanced back at the creature. ‘My modifications took longer than I had hoped. Are you ready?’ His face was grave. ‘I think we’ll have to do this without the help of our mechanical friend.’
Things had started so well. Eddie had grabbed the egg from within Lorimore’s apparatus. George could already imagine Liz’s grateful smile. Maybe even a thankful hug.
But then the clanking metal nightmare that housed the mortal remains of his old friend Albert Wilkes had grabbed George and held him tight. Held him so he could see Lorimore with his revolver pointed at Liz, and Eddie forced to hand over the smooth, oval-shaped stone.
All the while George pleaded with Albert. Begged him to remember who he had once been, that George was his friend, that Lorimore had done terrible things to him.
‘I know you can hear me, Albert,’ he said urgently. ‘I know there’s something left. You contacted us — at the seance. Remember? Somehow you were able to move the upturned glass. You knew we were trying to help. Knew, and did something about it. Somewhere, somehow, on some level you still have a soul — a conscience. Use it! Help us!’
But it seemed to have no effect. There was nothing left, George realised. It was simply a machine, with enough remaining intelligence to obey Lorimore’s orders, but no more than that. The blank white eyes stared back at George, unblinking. No flicker. No recognition. Nothing.
George finally shouted at Wilkes in frustration: ‘Let me go!’
‘Now!’ Lorimore shouted in victory as he pushed home the last of the three levers in front of him.
And the metal claws that were eating into George’s upper arms suddenly relaxed their grip, and he realised he was free. Was the thing that had been Albert Wilkes confused? Did it think — in whatever way it could think — that its master had ordered it to let George go? Or had George’s pleas finally hit home? Was there somewhere deep inside the rotting cadaver a vestige of memory of who he had once been?
The stone glowed red hot in the metal equipment, almost too bright to look at. Across the room, George could feel the heat from it. It even warmed the rain as it splashed across his face.
A shower of sparks joined the rain, pouring down from the fractured roof and spilling on to the workbench. A cable broke free and snaked down, the broken end of it spouting flames that guttered and died as it fell.
Lorimore’s gun wavered, but it was still pointing at Liz. His face was a mask of fury and confusion. The egg faded from red back to the pale colour of stone. Nothing happened.
‘What’s wrong?’ Lorimore demanded. He looked round, as if accusing Sir William and Liz of interfering. ‘What have you done?’
‘You know we have done nothing,’ Sir William replied. ‘How could we?’
‘What’s the problem?’ Eddie asked. He was grinning, and George could guess why.
‘It hasn’t worked,’ Lorimore said frantically. ‘Why hasn’t it worked? The egg should have been reanimated. It should have hastened the process of life. This egg should be
His hand stopped short, feeling the heat, and he snatched it back. Instead he held the gun in both hands thrusting it towards Sir William.
But it was Eddie who spoke. ‘It’s just an old stone,’ he said. ‘That’s all.’
‘It is
‘It’s just an old stone,’ Eddie repeated. ‘I should know. I found it.’
‘Where Glick left it, inside the iguanodon statue,’ Lorimore insisted.
‘No,’ Eddie told him.
‘What?’
‘I didn’t find
Lorimore’s face was as red as the stone had been. ‘Give it to me!’
Eddie laughed at that. ‘No chance.’
‘Give it to me, or I will shoot your friends.’
Eddie did not reply. Instead he tossed the egg across the workbench. Lorimore lunged forwards, arm out, desperate to catch it. The gun fell from his hand and clattered to the wet floor falling amongst the broken glass.
The egg lazily spun in the air, falling into the outstretched hand of Liz.
Lorimore was climbing rapidly across the workbench towards her. A glass tank filled with murky liquid slid away from him and crashed to the floor. Something flopped out as the viscous liquid spilled from the shattered glassware. George stepped forward quickly, aware of the hiss of gears and pistons as Wilkes followed him.
Just as Lorimore reached for her, Liz quickly tossed the egg to George. He caught it easily. Lorimore was already scrambling towards him as George pushed the metal plate on the top of the ship back into place. He put the egg on it, and stepped back.
With a cry of relief, Lorimore leapt down from the workbench and reached for the ship.
At that moment, the internal mechanism clicked. The metal plate again flew upwards. The fossil was hurled up into the air. With an anguished cry, Lorimore watched it fly high above him.
He only had a moment, but George was already diving to the floor, sliding through the broken glass and reaching for the gun. Eddie was there ahead of him, his hands cut and bleeding from the razor-sharp shards, his hair plastered to his head with rain.
The egg was falling again. George grabbed the gun from Eddie and spun round to see. Lorimore was standing under the egg, waiting. But another figure thrust him aside, and caught the stone as it fell.
Albert Wilkes.
George raised the gun.
The thunder sounded as if it was there inside the laboratory with them. And it was. The huge dinosaur-like creature stamped in through the broken wall, ripping apart what was left of the fabric, sending more glass and masonry flying. Its claws lashed out, uncontrolled. Its head was swinging desperately back and forth as steam poured out of its joints.
A massive foot crashed down heavily next to George. Steam exploded from it, burning George’s hand. He dropped the gun with a cry, and it rolled away under the belly of the creature.
