Colony

  They edged onwards.

  Soon the tunnel ended. The rock that had grazed their elbows now recessed sharply to either side, and the ground ahead sloped away for a distance, before levelling off into the floor of an enormous sub-circular chamber. It had to be three or four hundred metres across. The walls were riddled with openings and ledges, and they rose upwards and inwards to form a dome-shaped ceiling high above.

  Rather than an unbroken expanse, the chamber floor was carved into a series of islands. Some were connected to one another and to the walls of the cavern, by narrow stone aisles, umbilical cords of rock that meandered from one to the other. A few of the islands seemed to be entirely isolated, appearing to float, but no doubt rooted to the others lower down.

  “My God!” Ava exclaimed.

  “Mine too,” Callum said.

  The bases of the deep fissures contained rivers of magma. Red-hot and steaming, the molten stone snaked its way beneath them, crackling and sending up clouds of scalding vapour, before flowing out of the chamber through a lower system of tunnels. The overall effect was like a stone web strung across a basin of fire, both awe-inspiring and terrifying.

  The first thing to cross Callum’s mind as he beheld the sight was Doctor Semyonov. He had been convinced that there would be substantial geothermal activity on Harmsworth, much to the derision of his peers, not least Ava. He may have got the exact location wrong, but now, standing in the heart of this ancient magma chamber, there was no denying that he’d been right all along.

  “Rest in peace, Nikolai,” Ava whispered, evidently sharing his thoughts.

  As Callum’s eyes adjusted to the glare, the source of the overpowering stink also became apparent. His pulse picked up. The creatures were everywhere. Hundreds of them. They were not unexpected, but their numbers were. Wherever there was space, he was suddenly aware of them twitching, huddled around the edges of the chamber, clustered in the tunnel mouths, perched on the ledges that jutted from the walls. Most seemed to be curled up in small groups, their heads resting on each other’s backs as they dozed in the heat. Others clung to the walls of the cavern, claws pinned into the rock, arms and legs splayed, just like the birds that would sun themselves on the walls of his house during summer.

  Without exception, their feathers were flushed with the same grey-brown as the surrounding rock. It was a triumph of camouflage. If Callum’s senses hadn’t been honed by fear, he was certain the entire colony would have been invisible.

  “What is this place?” he whispered to Ava.

  “Isn’t it obvious?” she replied. “Volkov’s led us right into the hive.”

  Hive. Just the word made Callum’s skin crawl.

  Koikov stirred suddenly and pointed out into the chamber.

  It was Volkov. Oblivious to the danger that he and Darya were in, he was standing at the end of one of the rock bridges. Darya was in front. She looked dazed, terrified as she peered over the edge of the precipice at the good thirty-metre drop down into the flame. The sight of Volkov’s knife around her throat as he pushed her ahead turned Callum’s stomach, and in that moment he knew that he would not be leaving this cave without her.

  Koikov raised his rifle as if to take a shot, but Callum shoved it back down. Even if he was the best shot in the world, he still wouldn’t have risked a bullet in Darya’s direction. Not only that, but it would wake the hive. Just about the only thing in their favour right now was the fact that the creatures appeared to be roosting and had yet to notice them. He tried to communicate this to Koikov, who looked indignant but seemed to understand.

  By now Volkov had walked Darya across the stone walkway and out onto one of the islands. The three watched on, each seeming to understand that their best option was to see where he went next, then to follow quietly, without risking a chase across the precarious splinters of rock.

  “That’s weird,” Callum whispered. “There’s not a single creature out on the islands.”

  “Probably keeping a safe distance from the lake of fire,” Ava replied.

  “I don’t buy it. If they were scared of the magma then why congregate here in the first place?”

  She shrugged. “Perhaps the islands are reserved.”

  “Reserved?”

  “For something other than sleeping.”

  Possible, Callum thought. But reserved for what? Through the haze, he could make out clusters of pale rocks at each of their centres, but they were otherwise empty.

  2

  Volkov couldn’t shake his fury. He had the data stick, but once again people had obstructed what should have been a very simple operation and made the whole thing unnecessarily taxing. His own, very expensive, modified helicopter had been destroyed. The man he’d trusted more than any other had turned on him, forcing Volkov to kill him. And now he’d had no option but to take refuge in the stifling, labyrinthine bowels of what appeared to be a volcano. The whole thing was intolerable.

  His finger itched against the knife handle. What he really wanted to do was slit the throat of this infernal ecologist woman, to send her the way of all the other irritations and inconveniences that he had dispatched with it over the years. But then he needed her alive. For now at least.

  He stopped and threw a glance around the cavern. Koikov and Doctor Ross would undoubtedly be in pursuit, but they were yet to make it this far. He would hide out in one of the tunnels up ahead, wait for them to pass through and then double back. Then, and only then, would he allow himself the pleasure of carving up the troublesome Miss Lebedev and making his way back to the submarine.

  The craft was concealed in a nearby cove, with just enough power left to make it to the base on Nagurskoye. He would have to alter his story somewhat, in order to account for recent developments. But there would be plenty of time for him to contact his associates and formulate something suitable en route to the base. He would also need to get a reliable clean-up team to Harmsworth ASAP. All dead bodies and helicopter wreckage would have to be removed quickly, restoring the deceit that all hands, save his, had gone down with the Albanov. Again, it could all be arranged. The most important thing now, he reminded himself, was that he had the data stick.

  “We shouldn’t be here,” Darya whispered, her voice trembling.

  “Shut up and keep moving.” He urged her forward, digging the side of the knife blade into her neck. She had been raving on about some fairy-tale creature or other ever since they’d entered the cavern, and it was starting to grate.

  “You fool! Can you not see them? They are everywhere.”

  His mind ticked over. Hadn’t Lungkaju mentioned something about strange animals on the island? Something about a lizard bird? Volkov had paid little attention to his babbling at the time, though, in hindsight, it was unusual for the level-headed Lungkaju to have been quite so excited by an idea. Perhaps there might have been something in it after all.

  Out of curiosity, he cast his eyes around the walls and up over the ceiling. Nothing. He couldn’t see anything at all, because there was clearly nothing to see. This was surely proof enough that it was all madness. Doctor Lebedev said that they were there right now, all around him. Yet there was plainly nothing but rock and flame. She was delusional.

  “What exactly should I be looking at?” he growled. “These supposed prehistoric beasts?”

  “Talk quietly,” she urged him, her voice a breathy whisper. “They are everywhere.”

  “They are nonsense! I have seen nothing of the sort on this island because they do not exist, Miss Lebedev. You are delirious. Now keep moving!”

  He took another stride forward. As he did so, he kicked against a dump of pale rocks, and a single one dislodged itself and rolled towards his foot. It was oval, with an uneven, cream-coloured surface. Intrigued, Volkov extended his boot and gave it a kick. To his surprise, the exterior shattered and a viscous fluid glooped out, followed by the head of a baby bird.r />
  Volkov found himself repulsed by the look of the creature’s face as it writhed, fighting to free the rest of its under-developed body from what he now realised to be a shell. Eggs. What he’d considered to be a spread of rocks was actually a clutch of large bird eggs, perhaps thirty or forty strong. He cast a glance around. There were similar clutches on each of the adjacent islands. Perhaps twenty in total, making as many as eight hundred eggs.

  He searched the roof of the cavern. Not a single bird.

  “It’s one of them,” Darya whispered. Her eyes were wide as she gazed with evident horror at the remains of the shattered egg. “This must be the nest.”

  He scoffed.

  “Mr Volkov, please listen to me. This is not a trick. We need to leave here right now!”

  “Nonsense,” he replied. Sweating profusely in the intense heat, he pushed the head of the baby bird to one side with his toe and watched as it squirmed. It was a pink, veiny blob. Its limbs were flushed purple and dripping with albumen. Its beak was dark and globular, and its eyes were fastened tightly shut, as if glued. “You may be the ecologist, Doctor Lebedev. But that is a bird. I’ll grant you it is rather larger and uglier than most, but it is clearly just a bird of some description. Now enough of this! I do not want to hear another word about fictitious creatures!”

  “Mr Volkov, no!”

  It was too late. In one quick motion, he curled his foot around the back end of the broken egg and scooped it over the edge of the island. As it fell, the chick’s varicose body broke free from its shell. It pumped its arms in vain. Its large eyes unbonded and opened wide. Its still-forming beak gaped with panic, and it let out its first and last scream.

  3

  Around the chamber, the walls erupted into life as the sound of the doomed chick awoke the rest of the colony. Koikov dragged the other two down onto their fronts and they watched as the creatures unfurled themselves from their huddles, scurried down from their perches and leapt to their feet.

  A cacophony of screeching, braying and clicks tore through the air. All eyes, Troodon and human alike, were now locked upon the island of stone and the two intruders at its heart. Volkov and Darya stood side by side, throwing glances in all directions. Any second and Callum was certain that the thousands of enraged creatures would swarm out onto the platform. If they weren’t barged over into the magma, Volkov and Darya would be torn to shreds.

  He threw a panicked glance at Koikov. Then he raised his rifle, preparing to take out as many of the creatures as he could. The soldier also shifted. He thrust his rifle at Ava, who didn’t hesitate to accept it. Then he pulled the bazooka from behind his back and pointed it down into the chamber.

  All three held their breath and waited for the attack to begin.

  But nothing happened. Around the edges of the magma pit, the swarm of creatures continued their vocal assault. They paced up and down in agitation, bowing their heads, grinding their teeth and erecting their plumages in display.

  Their feathers flushed as only Callum and Darya had seen them before, with vibrant reds and oranges, ambers and whites, until it looked as if the magma had seeped up and around the walls of the cavern. But still they maintained their position around the perimeter, posturing, jostling, but refusing to approach the nests.

  “Why aren’t they attacking?” Callum asked at last.

  “I’ve no idea,” Ava replied. “They’re acting more nervous than aggressive. They look… scared.”

  Callum’s brow furrowed. What the hell could scare these things? As his finger tapped against the rifle trigger, the entire chamber lapsed into sudden silence. The unexpected and complete cessation of sound was one of the eeriest noises Callum had ever heard, and a shiver passed through him.

  All movement had stopped. The cavern stilled. As one, the creatures shed their colour, the effect like a ring of light going out around the room. Shadows now, a sea of bared gums and dilated eyes, they stared over at the intruders, waiting.

  * * *

  “What do we do?” Volkov demanded, his voice echoing out around the newly silent cavern.

  “Perhaps you should tell them that you don’t believe in them!” Darya replied. “Why not offer them a bribe?”

  Volkov went to slap her around her insolent face. But as he raised his hand back, a breeze blew across his neck. It was warm and rhythmic. It reeked of stale meat and left an oily trace on his skin.

  Doctor Lebedev obviously felt it too, and her expression froze.

  Together they turned towards it.

  Volkov gasped.

  Darya’s jaw dropped.

  There was something staring at them across the top of the egg pile.

  Chapter 19

  Tansu Taibaa

  1

  Callum, Koikov and Ava looked on, open-mouthed, as two large forearms, slender but rippling with muscle, emerged from behind the nest. Each hand forked into three fingers, tipped with claws. At the other end, the two shoulder blades resembled upturned axe-heads, the skin sucked taut around them. And attached to the backs of the elbows were membranous flaps, finely feathered wings, running all the way along the underside of the arms and out of sight along the concealed torso.

  When the arms had reached forward, up over the edge of the island, and the claws had picked into the rock either side of the clutch, the creature raised its head to peer at Volkov and Darya.

  In contrast to the others, its movements were not brash or aggressive. They were slow, almost timid, and spider-like. At first, its enormous black eyes barely crept above the eggs’ pinnacles, as it scoped out the two intruders. Then they rose up to reveal a much stubbier but still beak-like snout, lined with rows of jagged teeth. It shuddered as it sucked in a series of breaths, tasting the air.

  “What the hell is that thing?” Callum managed at last.

  “It’s a Troodon,” Ava replied bluntly.

  “What are you talking about? It’s three times bigger… and it’s got wings, not just feathers, but actual, real wings!”

  “Yeah,” Ava said. “But look what else it’s got. A mix of reptilian and avian traits, the same enormous eyes, the same teeth, the same claws, plus it’s resident in the same hive.” She indicated the horde of creatures massed around the room. “You telling me these things would tolerate a different species in here?”

  As Darya and Volkov stood rooted to the spot, the creature clambered fully up onto the island before them. The more Callum saw of it, the more he suspected that Ava was right. Its lower half was much more Troodon-like. Its hind legs were long and muscular, and it carried the same sickle-like toe claws, only the size of scimitars. Its tail, still dangling down over the edge as it perched behind its clutch, was tipped similarly with large, decorative plumes.

  “They must be polymorphs,” Ava said. “A polymorphic species of dinosaur. Who’d’ve thought it!” Even under the circumstances, she couldn’t keep the wonder from her voice.

  “Polymorphs?”

  “A species with more than one phenotype. Like with ants, where you’ve got workers, soldiers and queens. Each phenotype or caste is physically distinct, either because of gender variation or because it’s designed to perform a specific social role. Workers forage and build. They’re male and they tend to be small, your basic model ant. Soldiers are also male. They protect the workers and they tend to be bigger, often with increased body armour and weaponry such as large mandibles. Queens found colonies and lay eggs. They tend to be much bigger, with bigger abdomens and they’re often flyers. They’re all still ants, just different manifestations of the same animal.”

  “So you reckon that’s some kind of Troodon queen?”

  “Uh-uh. The carcasses I’ve seen so far have all been female. The genitalia’s clear. Also,” she pointed forward, “if I’m not mistaken then that thing’s got a penis.”

  Callum looked on as the creature continued to sniff ar
ound its nest, its massive ribcage expanding and contracting with each breath. Sure enough, there did appear to be a red-tipped protrusion between its legs.

  “I’d imagine it wouldn’t usually be so prominent,” Ava said. “Either he’s displaying because he feels threatened, or he might be subconsciously sexually aroused by the scent of all the females.”

  “Funny,” Callum replied. “They’re having precisely the opposite effect on me.”

  “Cute.”

  “So he’s a king then? Some kind of emperor?”

  “Probably, but he’s something else as well. Something much worse.”

  With care not to disturb the remainder of the clutch, the creature now leant forward and sniffed at the remains of the shattered egg at Volkov’s feet. Then it froze. Slowly, it raised its face back up, the full intensity of its gaze coming to rest on him.

  “How the hell could it be any worse?” Callum whispered, pulling the rifle firmly into his shoulder. Beside him, he could hear Koikov making ready with the bazooka.

  The creature’s beak curled back suddenly, exposing its blood-red gums and rows of jagged canines. Then, in one swift movement, it spread its wings protectively around the remaining eggs. Its eyes narrowed and it hissed at Volkov, its fore claws scraping at the rock to either side with renewed agitation.

  “Oh, it’s a helluva lot worse,” Ava said. “He’s a father.”

  2

  Volkov felt the warm flood of urine soaking through his underwear.

  He had been frozen to the spot ever since the creature had emerged from its hidden roost below the stone island, barely able to breathe for fear. Oddly, it was this final humiliating loss of bodily function that had spurred him back to life.

  On impulse, he flipped his knife over, grabbed the back of the blade and flung it with all his might. It spun through the air, heading straight for the centre of the creature’s chest. Any second and the blade would pierce through its ribcage and puncture its heart…