He stopped, his ears perked. Odd that the door to the research facility was ajar. Hadn’t he closed it when he had last passed this way? Surely the creature hadn’t managed to penetrate the inner chamber? No, impossible... And yet, there was that containment room access on level 6, where a cunning creature might bypass the electro-monitored checkpoint then…perhaps—
A bulky form hit him sideways, sending him to the far wall. He reeled, curled in a ball to cushion his fall. He spun around with tentacles upraised to meet those of his attacker’s.
Audra advanced. Jngken let out a soft scream. He felt the whoosh of air at his side and the breath fizzle out of his lungs. Before he knew it, he was enveloped in a flurry of whipping tentacles, crushed in a violent embrace. Sexual embrace. Shock, fear, lust and terror all coalesced in one continuum of utter, sensory chaos.
Cartilage bent. Muscle tissue ripped. Jngken felt himself being ravaged, in a thrill of ecstasy, albeit painfully as every corpuscle was crushed to oblivion, every flexible bit of cartilage torn and ruptured from inside out. His male member thrust against her elastic, soft, rubbery-receptive orifice. But Audra denied him that pleasure at the last instant, crushing every bit of fluid and wind out of him.
* * *
Audra paused after her handiwork, letting the mangled heap fall in a lifeless jumble. No one must know how she escaped if she were to capture Miko unhindered. Black blood dripped from her upper left motilator. Her wounds, though not insignificant, would heal soon enough, toughen up with rubbery scar tissue. Hers was a formidable constitution. Now to follow the renegade Mentera. He would lead her straight to Miko, her real quarry. The human who had wronged her. He had a dire reckoning ahead of him.
She reeled back against the cold stone, her motilators skimming the rough surface of the tunnel floor. A minor lapse. The narcotic the Zikri attendant had pricked her with was only a small dose for her enormous bulk. Not enough to hinder her much—already the drug was wearing off. Still, she was aware that she was not in top condition. No matter. She shook off the woozy feeling, the dullness of her mental activity. There was much to do. The future course of events rode on possibilities explored and risks taken.
How she liked these rock-hewn corridors. Perfect for skulking and ambush.
She paused, used her olfactory glands to sniff out the spoor of the fugitive locust. The Mentera was wounded, dripping ichor from a missing left pincer. The locust blood had a metallic odor to it, quite distinctive, like the bog swamps of her distant home planet. A clear path to follow.
Up the tunnels she glided.
A long time later, the sounds of a struggle met her ears, laced with the hint of human activity—short, blaster bursts. At a bend in the tunnel stood an arched entrance granting access to a small cavern hosting several of the Mentera tanks. She crouched at the threshold of the archway, peering within. Several blood-splattered Zikri corpses were scattered about the rough stone floor, obviously taken out by blaster fire.
Further within, the grey-green cloying shadows thickened and she glimpsed one of the Zikri guards carrying a struggling human wearing a spacesuit.
The woman.
Audra’s beady eyes narrowed in interest. The same female that Miko found so enchanting. She was wrapped in the tentacles of a Zikri guard, hauling her toward one of the vacant tanks. That was reassuring. More leverage to use against Miko. The Zikri hunter lifted his struggling charge ready to plunge the pitiful specimen into one of the locust tanks.
The rebel locust hunched in the shadows in much distress at his lack of means and weapons. This same one she had shared the torture rack with had been the woman’s loyal companion, trying desperately to protect her. What horrid bodies both of them had, human and Mentera. How Miko could find the female thing desirable with her ugly scents, frame so weak and fragile and with hair so fair and long, was a mystery to her.
Without preamble, she acted with a hunter’s instinct.
* * *
With a wild yell, Star struck again and again at the loathsome invader’s tentacles wrapped around her body. The Zikri lifted her toward the tank that Usk had once occupied. No! This could not be happening! It was of no use—the thing’s limbs were like iron, constricting her like pythons. The more she struggled, the more air got sucked out of her lungs. Her suit would rupture at any moment. It would be all over. Yes, maybe that was better and quicker. Die before forced into a more gruesome hell. Please, kill me! Don’t let them thrust me in that tank!
Yet survival reflex would not let her die. Like a drowning dog she kicked and thrashed and lashed out at the odious brine as she inched closer to its sulfurous oblivion.
The Zikri’s face was close to hers now, a black and dusky-grey rubbery thing, like some ancient mask of horror.
In all that terror and the sudden flurry of splashing water, as she touched its filmy surface, she was wrenched back by an inconceivable force.
The sudden ripping of cartilage came to her ears. The strangling grip loosened in an instant and she sank. Some larger hulk was looming behind her, of more massive girth than her captor, something darker and more sinister, a titan of wadded flesh.
