Slimer

would spend forever wandering through the maze.

Then, when they finally reached the video room, they had to spend a long time sorting through the tapes trying to find the right ones. With the power off there was no way they could check to make sure so they decided to take as many as possible, using Paul’s shirt as a make-shift sack.

While all this was going on the pilot, who’d been forced to lie face down on the floor with his hands behind the back of his head, kept asking questions.

‘Are you guys going to tell me what the fuck happened here?’ was the first one.

‘I told you,’ said Paul, ‘it’s a long story and you probably wouldn’t believe it. That’s why we need these tapes. To prove it.’

‘What happened to all the people that were here?’

‘They got eaten, in a manner of speaking.’

‘ What? Are you crazy?’

‘See, I told you you wouldn’t believe me.’ Paul was examining cassettes in the weak light from the single lamp, trying to recognise familiar code numbers. Fortunately some of the cassettes were still sitting on the console and, as he told Linda, he was confident that the vital tape — the one they’d looked at last with Shelley’s description of what had happened — was among them.

‘What ate them?’ asked the pilot, after a long pause. ‘That’s the difficult bit,’ Paul told him. ‘It’s to do with what those scientists were working on here. You know all about that, don’t you? You must do otherwise you wouldn’t be here.’

‘I’m just a pilot. I don’t know anything.’

‘Don’t give me that,’ said Paul with a bitter laugh, ‘you knew this place was housing a secret laboratory. You also knew what they were doing here was illegal.’

‘Is that so?’ said the pilot warily. ‘So tell me, what happened? What did you find when you got here?’

‘You can read about it in the newspapers,’ said Paul, tying the corners of his shirt together. It held over twenty cassettes. ‘That’s it,’ he said to Linda. ‘Let’s get out of here-for good.’

Linda experienced a tremendous feeling of relief as the helicopter lifted off from the pad. The emotion was so strong it was intoxicating. She wanted to cry and laugh simultaneously. At long last they were actually leaving the hateful place..

‘I can’t figure why you still won’t let me call in,’ said the pilot. ‘They must be getting pretty anxious 'by now back at my base.’

‘Let them,’ said Paul. ‘You aren’t touching that radio.’ He was sitting beside him in the co-pilot’s seat,and had the barrel of the M16 pointing at the top of his head. Linda was sitting behind Paul. The cabin was quite spacious and could probably seat at least ten passengers without any difficulty.

‘Yeah? What will you do if I do touch it? Shoot me?’

‘Yes,’ said Paul.

The pilot laughed. ‘I really doubt that. You might have shot me while we were down on the platform but not up here. You need me now. Shoot me and this baby falls out of the sky.’

‘No it won’t. I know how to fly a helicopter.’

‘You’re bluffing.’

‘Possibly. But can you take the chance?’

The pilot didn’t answer. Nor did he make a move towards the radio.

‘Any idea where you’re going?’ Paul asked him.

‘Yeah. There’s another Brinkstone platform less than thirty klicks from here due east.’

‘A real oil platform or the cover for another one of Mr Brinkstone’s unusual enterprises?’

‘It’s a bona-fide oil rig, pal. And we’ll be there in about ten minutes.’

‘No we won’t,’ said Paul. ‘We’re not handing ourselves over to your people just like that. We know too many embarrassing things about Brinkstone. Your boss isn’t going to let us walk free to talk to the media if he can help it. More likely we’d just disappear…’

The pilot laughed. ‘Hey, hold on now. We’re an oil company, not the goddamn Mafia. You really think old man Brinkstone would have you killed? You’re crazy.

‘Yeah? If you’re all so innocent why were you carrying a gun? And why did you have such a well-armed team of guards on the platform back there?’

‘Security precautions, that’s all,’ he said curtly.

‘Huh,’ grunted Paul. ‘Well, we’re taking security precautions of our own. You’ll fly us directly to the mainland. You’ll set us down in a field or something right near a town.’

The pilot glanced at him with surprise. ‘The mainland? But that’s over two hundred klicks away. I don’t have enough fuel.’

‘Show me your fuel guage,’ ordered Paul, pushing the barrel of the M16 lightly against the pilot’s cheekbone.

After a pause he pointed at one of the dials on the instrument panel. Paul peered at it then said, ‘You’re carrying enough fuel to fly us six hundred kilometres. I told you I know about helicopters. You’ve got more than enough to get us all the way to Aberdeen. So that’s where we’re going. Get your charts out and prepare a course.’ He nudged him again with the gun barrel.

‘I still think you’re bluffing,’ he said, but he reached down to the chart case clipped to the side of his seat and did as Paul ordered. Then, as he plotted a new course, he said, ‘What will you do after you land?’

‘Organise a press conference somehow. Get these tapes seen by the right people. Make sure the full story comes out. And make sure that steps are taken to see that what happened back on that oil rig never happens again.’

‘And what did happen? You can tell me now. We’ve got time.’

‘The scientists working for your boss accidently created a new kind of life form. A highly dangerous one. It was practically unkillable. It was only through sheer luck we got rid of it…’

The pilot laughed. ‘“Practically unkillable” butjou managed to get rid of it? Doesn’t sound very dangerous to me. What exactly was it?’

‘Well…’ Paul hesitated. ‘Well, it was a creature that could change its shape. It was genetically engineered to adapt to anything that threatened its survival. At times it looked human, other times it was a pool of moving jelly…’

The pilot gave a snort of disbelief. ‘You give that story to the media and they’ll lock you up in an asylum. It sounds crazy.’

‘Yeah, well, it doesn’t matter if you believe me or not,’ said Paul defensively.

‘Oh, but I do believe you,’ said the pilot, removing his helmet.

Linda screamed. Staring out at her from the back of his head was a round, fish-like eye.

Eighteen

‘Shot it, Paul!’ screamed Linda. ‘Kill it!’

‘I wouldn’t advise that,’ said the ‘pilot’ quickly. ‘It would be inconvenient for all of us. Before I could reform this machine might possibly go out of control and crash. I would survive, of course, but you two wouldn’t. And I do know, Paul, that you were bluffing about being able to fly it. I know everything about you that your friends did…’

Paul’s face twisted with indecision. He backed away from the pilot, flattening himself against the door, but kept the M16 pointing at his head. ‘Jesus,’ he cried, ‘Shelley lied — there were more than one of you!’