Arachnosaur

by Richard Jeffries

  “Where’s Joe?” she asked.

  Her question seemed to reach each Cerberus man like a mosquito flitting from ear to ear. One by one they, too, started looking around for something other than Logan, his people, and prehistoric spiders.

  “Here,” Key said over the comm-links. Gonzales’s comm-links were so small and comfortable, they had nearly forgotten that they still had them in their aural cannels. Key gave them his longitude and latitude. “Come on up,” he invited, “but try not to be obvious doing it.”

  The experienced soldiers and mechanics knew exactly where Key was, but they put on a fairly convincing, as well as subtle, show of frustration that the beachhead was locked down tight. They wandered back the way they came, seemingly in resignation, but once they were out of sight of the captain and his core crew, they moved north into the hills.

  They found Key kneeling by four corpses, three human and one arachnosaur, on the bluff where three brave villagers had their last stand against a mimicking monster.

  “This one gave its life so these three could be ambushed,” Lancaster said, pointing at the fallen arachnosaur, then the gutted trio.

  “I guess the search software only homes in on living creatures,” Gonzales said.

  “Like us?” Daniels asked.

  “They’re not programmed for ‘us’ shapes,” Key informed him. “Just spider shapes.”

  Only he and Lancaster didn’t grimace when Rahal immediately fell to her knees and shoved her arms, up to her elbows, into the soupy gunk inside the nearest human corpse.

  “Don’t you need a hazmat suit or gloves or something?” Daniels said with distaste.

  “Got any?” Rahal snapped. “I guess we’ll see if I do.” She pulled out, and held up, one of the lumpy globs the creatures had pumped into every victim. “Did any of you sons of bitches come prepared, or do I have to carry this all the way back myself?”

  Faisal was already pulling a extra-thick, lock-topped, plastic bag from his pocket. As he helped Rahal secure the sample, Lancaster turned to the others. “Get the arachnosaur back to the copter,” he ordered Daniels and Gonzales. “We’ve got to get all of this to the best, nearest, safest, lab ASAP.”

  The two started back toward their transport, but stopped when Key spoke up.

  “I’m not going.”

  Rahal stared at him in disbelief. “Why not?”

  “It’s not over,” Key told her, then, before anyone else could complain or inquire, he spoke directly to the scientist. “You said they were displaying hive mind.”

  Rahal nodded.

  “Who’s mind?” he asked. “What’s mind?” Key turned his attention to Lancaster. “After LaWS took out the bulk of them, the rest kept attacking. If the mind they were taking orders from was amongst them, they would have been confused and disorganized. Did they look confused or disorganized to you?”

  Lancaster thought back carefully, then answered just as carefully. “No.”

  Key stood, looking at the others. “Best intel then said they all escaped from the home hive, and swept toward the sea. Best intel now says that all the escapees are here. No stragglers.” He glanced at the dead thing in Daniels and Gonzales’s hands. “No living stragglers, at any rate.” He returned his gaze to Rahal. “What’s the operative word in my lecture?”

  Lancaster rolled his eyes. “Sergeant Major, this is no time for rid—”

  “Home.” Rahal’s quiet answer cut through the retired general’s frustration.

  Key nodded, not at all happily. “Home,” he repeated. “There’s no place like the home hive.” He stood at attention in front of Lancaster. “Permission to return to Shabhut,” he said. “Sir.”

  Chapter 32

  “No.”

  That’s what it came down to. Lancaster would have loved to have contacted anyone else to get Key military backup for his return to Shabhut, but time was of the essence.

  When Lancaster approached the C-130 Hercules cargo jet on the USS Nexus, where Logan was supervising the loading of his arachnosaur samples, the captain clearly had visions of major, colonel, or even brigadier general bars dancing in his brain. So no request, no matter how logical, was going to distract him from his planned presentation of total triumph to his superiors.

  The weasel, being a weasel, intrinsically knew that Lancaster would only show his face again if he needed something, something even eating a whole murder of crows wouldn’t convince the gloating Logan to grant.

  “Can’t you get it through your armor-plated skull that we’ve won?” He practically spat in Lancaster’s face, although he nearly had to stand on his tiptoes to do it.

  “Not yet,” Lancaster replied, trying to kick-start Logan’s self-preservation instincts. “Stopping here, stopping now, could come back to bite you on the ass, Pat.”

  Logan almost turned his back on the man, clearly thinking furiously. When he turned back, he had practically built a mental moat against him. He pointed at the sealed hazmat containers being loaded into the C-130’s belly.

  “We stopped these things from getting to the sea, Chuck,” he blustered. “Those were my orders, and I carried them out to the letter!”

  Lancaster opened his mouth to reply, but Logan beat him to it, turning tail and dismissing him with a wave. “Present intel clearly indicates Shabhut is a ghost town.” The captain sneered in parting. “A ghost town surrounded by insurgents, radicals, fanatics, and terrorists just waiting to take the head off of anyone stupid enough to show up.”

  Getting an idea of a good parting shot, Logan turned around, faced Lancaster and rooted himself on the Nexus deck. “If your people are stupid enough, have fun,” he said insolently. “But my people have done their job beautifully and bravely. I’m not going to waste them on a fool’s errand.” With that, he finally turned heel and marched up the ramp into the Hercules.

  Lancaster sighed and walked past Gonzales, who had been waiting a respectful distance away. “Some people are good at doing their jobs,” he muttered as he fell into step beside the retired general. “Others are better at keeping theirs.” When Lancaster didn’t respond, Gonzales tried again in a resigned, slightly sarcastic, tone. “Well, at least he had the brains to check present intel,”

  “Did he?” Lancaster asked. “How soon can you get clearance for takeoff?”

  Gonzales raised his eyebrows. “The captains and commanders of these ships would kiss your ring, if you wore one. Say when.”

  Lancaster didn’t say when. He said, “Now.” And he said it in a tone that had Gonzales running to alert the others.

  * * * *

  Gonzales didn’t say now. He said, “Wow,” when he took the first look at what had happened to his Thumrait workshop.

  His first surprise was when Lancaster informed him and Faisal of that destination. Given the mere seven hundred and fifty kilometers they had to traverse, CJ got them there in less than an hour.

  “I hope you don’t mind that I ordered some…enhancements to your place,” Lancaster commented quietly as he shouldered past the mechanic. Key and Daniels wedged in the doorway on either side of Gonzales, so they all marveled at the change. Now Gonzales’s projects looked like art installations dotted amongst some of the most modern, advanced tech the trio had ever seen. There was a new engineering section, a weapons armory, a communications hub, a research center with the latest computers, and a scientific/medical/laboratory area where Rahal was already poring over her samples.

  Key and Gonzales stared in amazement at Lancaster, continuing to comprehend the gist of Cerberus’s influence and funding.

  Daniels, meanwhile, had forced his way past, and was searching, with growing irritation, for something. “What?” he complained. “No gym?”

  Lancaster laughed drily. “It’ll be here when you get back,” he promised.

  Daniels looked at him pointedly for just a second. “If we get
back,” he answered quietly, then flopped down on the shabby sofa that was left over from Gonzales’s original floor plan.

  His comment elicited a sharp look from Rahal, before she quickly returned to her dissecting. Key had not missed the glance, but was now distracted by Gonzales’s stunned stumbling through what had been his sanctuary, and was now his wonderland.

  “How—” he stammered. “I know I was gone for a while, but still—”

  Lancaster approached him with a grim, yet still generous, smile. “As I believe you said to these gentlemen, you have some ‘decent assistants.’ You had told them of your hopes for this place, so I just supplemented them with Cerberus’s needs.” He looked around with satisfaction. “I knew we’d need an outpost away from Logan-ville and other pockets like it.”

  “Very nice,” Key said honestly as he approached. “But we’re only, what, eight hundred kilometers closer to Shabhut?”

  Lancaster leveled him with a look. “You can’t just walk in, Sergeant Major.”

  “Bet you that’s exactly what we wind up doing,” Daniels said with a ravenous grin.

  Key looked from the sergeant to the retired general pointedly. Lancaster was unfazed.

  “Give me a few minutes,” Lancaster said evenly. “Meanwhile, take the time to rest. You’re going to need it.”

  Key couldn’t argue with that. As Daniels went to scour the weapons section, Gonzales approached the new engineering garage while motioning with his head toward the swinging door to his quarters. Key gratefully took the hint.

  Apparently that had been upgraded as well. The lighting and air conditioning were equally advanced, sealing the immediate, comfortable area off from not only the workshop and the nearby airbase, but the rest of the world. The king-size platform bed had the latest in mattress and pillow advancements, and the sheets were cool to the touch.

  Key was asleep almost even before his head touched them, and stayed that way until someone sat beside him. As was his wont, he was immediately awake and alert, looking up at Eshe Rahal.

  She sat, one foot on the floor, the other tucked beneath her thigh, her knee pointing at him. She was wearing short-sleeve, V-neck scrubs, while her face wore an expression of respect, concern, compassion, and something else. Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

  “You’re not much for small talk, are you?” she asked fondly. She laughed softly when he didn’t answer, thereby answering her. Her sweet, deep laugh both itched and scratched something inside him. “Well then,” she said as she slowly pulled off the scrubs top, revealing a formfitting T-shirt.

  Prior to that she had always been in abayas or something like it. But even those robes hadn’t completely submerged her youthful, womanly shape, but now her vitality was clearly partnered with her body. Whatever was left to his imagination was soon gone as she pulled the T-shirt over her head as well.

  Her skin was the color of café au lait and her breasts were two of the most perfect he could imagine—not too large, small, or misshaped—as they jiggled and settled high on her chest. They were firm, yet soft, which he discovered as she slid beside him, pulling off her pants as she went. The next moment her breasts, with their nearly perfectly circular brown aureoles and nipples, were squeezed against his chest, while her elegant hands and shapely legs snaked around him.

  She reached up and pulled off her headcloth, shaking loose her thick, silky, glistening, black hair. Then her deep eyes opened and sought his as her arms and legs closed. Her eyes held caring but also fear, a fear he recognized. It was the fear of losing someone before you even really found them.

  “I have been waiting for this,” she said tenderly. “I think you have too.”

  He smiled and cocked his head slightly as if considering it. “I’ve been aware,” he replied kindly.

  Her eyes flashed. Then her smile widened as his arms and legs wrapped around hers. “Remind me about that,” she said, moving her mouth toward his. “Later.” Then their lips met.

  He hoped the soundproofing was as advanced as the air conditioning and lighting. It was. Within moments, he realized what the other thing that had been in her initial expression. It was not only respect, concern, and compassion, it was also passion. A passion he returned until they were moving in harmonious rhythm, locked together as a single pleasure-giving animal.

  Every touch, of everything, everywhere, set off bliss in their brains until they were nearly drowning in it. He was so hard and she so soft, tight, wet, and warm that neither could completely comprehend it.

  The pain of his concussion had shut down his mind. This opened it until both were clamping onto each other, hoping against hope that the sensations wouldn’t diminish until they were done.

  The last thing he remembered was groaning. The next thing he knew, there was a hand on his shoulder, shaking him awake. He stared up at Lancaster, Daniels, and a fully clothed Rahal by the bed, staring down at him.

  “Look alive, Soldier,” the retired general said. “Briefing time.”

  Thankfully Lancaster then turned and marched out because, on the basis of Daniels’s sudden, disdainful, bewildered expression, Key’s expression must’ve been one for the ages.

  But, as the sergeant turned, Rahal took pity and shot the major an empathetic, grateful glance that told him it hadn’t been a dream. Just to make sure, she waited until just before he passed her before speaking. “Yes, Joe. Time to be aware.”

  The four gathered around Gonzales’s table, as Key and Daniels had after the infamous visit to Ayman’s morgue. Although the appliances had been upgraded, thanks to Lancaster’s largess, the welcoming mood was unchanged. Once everyone had the beverage of their choice, Rahal got down to business.

  “They’re not eggs,” she reported.

  “Thank God,” Lancaster said.

  “Maybe not,” she continued. “They’re arachnosaur excrement.”

  “What?” Daniels exploded. “Are you kidding? That stuff’s spider shit?”

  “Shut up, Sergeant,” Key said. “Think about it. If the webbing comes out of their ass, and that makes men explode—”

  Daniels frowned and looked dubiously toward the lab.

  Rahal nodded. “I’ve found much of the same components as the webbing,” she told them. “Dunnite and picric acid, but also other items I haven’t completely identified yet. But yes, they could have an explosive component that we need to pinpoint and protect ourselves against.”

  “Christ,” Key muttered. “We got organic grenades, but we don’t know what the pins look like.”

  Rahal nodded regretfully, then turned to Lancaster. “I’ve gone as far as I can with this equipment, sir. You said something about a fully equipped lab?”

  “Yes.” The retired general grunted. “But it’s not near, and we don’t have the time.”

  “Oh, we might have plenty of time,” Daniels reminded them. “We got plenty of questions, and even some answers, but we’re not a step closer to Shabhut, and, with no air or ground support, who knows when we will be?”

  “I do,” said Gonzales, who was approaching from the new engineering section, with Faisal right behind him. “Correct me if I’m wrong, General, but the more noise they make going in, the more trouble they’ll be attracting, right?” Lancaster nodded.

  “Told you we’d be walking in, Joe.” Daniels laughed, but with anticipation.

  “Isn’t that what you’ve wanted all along, Morty?” Key asked before turning to Lancaster. “A stealth force, in and out, right?” He couldn’t help noticing Rahal blushing at that description and looking at the floor.

  “That’s right, Sergeant Major,” Lancaster agreed. “But not a suicide squad. You’ve got to have at least a few people to watch your back. People we’re in short supply of, I’m afraid.”

  “Maybe not,” Rahal walked to the door of the medical clinic. “There’s someone I think you should know. So
meone who wants to say something to you.”

  She opened the door. Private Terri Nichols stood there smiling, in full uniform, her green eyes clear.

  Chapter 33

  Nobody, and everybody, wanted her along.

  Everyone wanted Nichols to take it easy, recover completely, and use the time to revel in her second chance. But no one was going to disagree with her when she spoke.

  “What’s the point?” she asked, her voice strong, even, and with just a hint of an ageless Irish lilt. “Why should I revel in a second chance when there may not be one for thousands, or millions, or even no one?”

  Gonzales beamed at her. It was just the way he felt. No one in this workshop did what they did looking for a recess reward or the key to a playground.

  “This fucker killed my friends,” she continued. “He fucked with me in the worst way, trying to make me a mindless killing machine. Well, I’m not going back looking for him, but I sure as hell will cover your ass if you do.” She looked directly at Key. “And, by the way, Sergeant Major, if I do happen to run into him, I’ll show him how good a killing machine I was before he fucked with me.”

  Daniels flashed a twisted, Popeye-like she yam what she yam grin for anyone who happened to look at him. He made as if he were about to verbalize something when Key held up a warning finger. Daniels’s mouth clapped shut before he had a chance to say, “And boy, here’s a redhead who’d give a certain blonde second louie I know a run for it.” It was obvious from his expression that was suddenly what he was thinking.

  “Besides,” she said. “My bunkmates said we were the last ones standing when the smoke cleared. So that makes you my commanding officer, doesn’t it?”

  Lancaster stood. “It does. And, as the sole survivor of the unit that originally went into Shabhut, you are free to do as you please.”

  Key looked to Rahal with raised eyebrows. “She seems completely compos mentis,” the scientist informed them. “The doctors of the airbase clinic and I can find no ill, or lasting effects from her ordeal at the hands of Awar’s captivity, or the legs of the arachnosaur infection.”