Snake Eyes

He took out his pistol and aimed into the throng at head level. The first shot passed through twenty heads before losing its velocity. The weed mummies dropped in a line, only to be replaced by many more. Using this technique he brought down hundreds of them before his three clips ran out. It was nothing against their mounting thousands. He looked down at the water once again. It seemed distant and blue and peaceful. It reminded him of sleep and yet the height and the thought of the fall terrified him.

A cloud passed across the sun and as it did so the water became momentarily translucent instead of reflective. He saw a shadow far below the surface. Looking up he scanned the sky to find the cloud that was casting such a huge shape onto the water. There was nothing but a few wisps of ethereal vapour, drifting so slow they hardly moved at all. The army approached him, coming within a few a meters. Soon they would be able to reach out and take him and the one choice he had left would be gone.

The lightness that had gathered in his stomach deepened into something stronger; a sense of anticipation like the moment before any leap only much, much worse. He believed his bowels were about to let go.

“We will be like you, Johnson. You will be like us.”

Green hands reached for him. He turned to the city’s edge and sprang beyond their reach.

For the briefest moment he felt weightless, then gravity took him and he was impelled towards the water.

Do I want to die or try and survive?

The waves accelerated towards him. He positioned himself to hit the water feet first, tensing every muscle in his body. One last look at the water showed the silhouette of some huge craft below the surface, a shape he thought he recognised.

Chapter 24

Drowning. That is what reality feels like.

Sinking and sinking until the downward motion inverts, propelling you upwards towards a new surface. The underwater world has turned over. You are rising, not sinking. Yet, you know there’s no way this new surface can be reached before the first desperate, involuntary in-breath fill your lungs with water and death. There, a few precious metres above is freedom; the first tier, the way out. Reaching it before blackness overwhelms you isn’t possible.

At least, it never seems possible but that is part of the thrill.

Chapter 25

When his face broke the water, penetrating the air at last, Robert Johnson woke up, instantly relieved to have made it and in the next moment sad to be back. Although partially submerged in the treacly, tepid saline, most of his body floated upon its dense surface. He had not, as he’d believed in the final moments of the cabal, swallowed any water. He was not drowning.

Instead, he was safe and he was warm. There lingered within his muscles, however, a scintillating rigour; an intense afterglow of the final moments in tier two. It was the only remnant of the fantasy he had brought with him. It had been a satisfying and terrifying absence; yet another in which he had not once guessed the truth.

With reluctance he allowed his body to settle, let the tension in his neck ease and gave into the floating support of the womblike follicle. Occasionally, a droplet of condensation would plink into the solution upon which he lay. With his ears under the surface of the water, each drip sounded like a deep, melodious plop; one that Johnson knew would be echoing around the silence of the Angelina for several seconds. The entire ship was a whispering gallery, an unintentional echo chamber that sometimes charmed him, sometimes pushed him close to insanity.

He closed his eyes in the darkness and drifted. He was tired by the journey and there was no reason to hurry now that he was back. In some level of consciousness that was part dream, part memory, part much needed sleep, he remained aware of himself.

Sometime later, feeling more refreshed, he returned to full consciousness once more. He tried to speak and managed only a croak that sounded muffled to his waterlogged ears. He tried again.

“Weaver?”

“Yes, Captain.”

“I’m back.”

“I am aware of that fact. I have been monitoring your progress, as always.”

“How am I doing?”

“Your vital signs fluctuated greatly during this cabal. However, they appear to be normal now. I take it you have enjoyed your respite from my company.”

“Heartily. Drain the follicle, would you?”

“Yes, Captain.”