by Guy N Smith
Gavin unslung his spade again with reluctance. 'Couldn't we come back and try it in the morning, Prof ?'
'No!' Lowson was not one to listen to suggestions. Not when his detector had raised yet another flicker of hope. 'We must not delay.'
The soft mud pulled at their limbs, straining tired muscles, and at least half of each spadeful they removed only slopped back.
The sun was just touching the horizon when Liz's spade struck something hard. Something metallic. She stooped down and picked it up but before she could examine it Lowson had snatched it from her grasp, and held it up. It was in the shape of an oblong, about six inches long, twisted and charred as though it had been subjected to the heat of a furnace.
'It's a bit of old tat,' Gavin threw his spade down hi disgust. 'Like the bedstead and the wreck. Waste of time and energy again.'
'Wait!' There was an excited gleam in the bearded man's eyes. He examined the object from all angles. A puzzled frown was on his face.
'Dig again!' he ordered, a tremor of excitement in his voice.
'For Christ's sake!' Gavin looked up to the heavens. 'We've spent between four and five hours today digging solidly. For what? A load of rubbish that the scrapman wouldn't accept as a gift. And now, just when we're about all in, you want us to dig for more.'
"This is no ordinary metal.' Professor Lowson's voice trembled. 'I have never seen anything like it before. It defies description. I beg of you to carry on digging. Just for a few minutes more.'
'Oh all right then,' Gavin picked up his spade. Perhaps the old chap had gone off his rocker at last.
They dug for another five minutes.
'Here's another piece.' Liz held up something which oozed mud.
'And another.' Gavin tossed his find up to the Professor Lowson.
Lowson wiped the mud from the object.
'Amazing ... amazing ... Whatever can it be? It is like a mixture of iron and alloy. Yet so light, so durable.'
Liz suddenly dropped her spade and clasped her hand to her nose. 'What a stink!'
Gavin coughed. 'We haven't struck a sewer by mistake have we?'
'It's like putrifying flesh.' Liz pulled a face. 'Hey, what's this?'
Her foot touched something solid in the mud. 'There's something else here Gavin. Come and help me scrape the mud away from it.'
They worked for a minute or two and then they saw it.
liz stepped backward, an expression of sheer revulsion on her face.
'It's a hand!'
Professor Lowson scrambled down into the hole and joined them. 'Let me see!' he gasped. 'Good Lord! It's ... it's,.. something!'
'It's like a claw,' Gavin muttered, 'a webbed claw. Some reptile.'
They scraped some more mud away.
There's a body under here,' Gavin snapped. 'Liz get out of this pit Stand and watch from the top if you want. But get out!'
The girl hastened to obey. She was going to vomit she was sure. The smell and... that!
'It's a body all right,' Lowson muttered. 'But nothing human. Just look at those scales: like a reptile, greyish green. Never seen anything like it. The stench. And ... just look at that face!'
A stone gargoyle would have been handsome by comparison. Squashed distorted features, and a flat nose with cavernous nostrils. It was hairless and earless, with the top lip overhanging the lower one, and covered in scales. Oozing a land of slime.
Liz turned away and retched. Below her the two men vomited showering the monstrosity with spew. The stench was far stronger now, hanging in the windless atmosphere.
Gavin clutched at the muddy sides of the pit for support. 'Whatever is it? Where the hell did a thing like that come from. Professor?'
Curiosity was beginning to conquer fear and revulsion.
'Look at those scales for instance: greyish green. The mud here is almost black. Surely it would have taken on the colour of its surroundings as do most reptilian creatures. See the slime too. That has come from the creature itself. Like a kind of perspiration. That's what we can smell.'
'BO, eh?' Gavin Royle was attempting to recover some of his composure.
A sudden scream from above them rang out on the still evening air. They whirled round.
Liz Beck was on her hands and knees peering down with a look of stark terror on her face.
'Look!' she screamed again. 'lust look! Oh, my God!'
'What is it? Liz for God's sake, what is it? Has your reason snapped girl?' Gavin sought a foothold in the soft sides of their excavations.
She was close to hysteria. That... that thing, it's ... its chest is heaving. It's breathing! It's (dive!'
They turned and looked again at the scaly, slimy monster.
Its chest rose and sank rhythmically. Now they could hear it: laboured, rasping. A bubble of slime formed on one of its nostrils, then burst. Mud trickled from its mouth.
Gavin grabbed hold of Lowson and pushed him up the side of the pit with a strength born of terror.
'Get out!' he yelled. 'Get out before it's too late!'
Liz helped to pull them to safety and they collapsed in an ungainly heap in the zos and spartina grass. Their power of speech seemed to have deserted them. Their muscles were incapable of moving. They retched and vomited again.
Below them all was silent except for that steady breathing.
'Well, it's still asleep.' Gavin found his cigarettes, lit two and passed one to Liz. 'Christ only knows what it would have done if we'd woken it up.'
The Professor crawled back to the edge of the crater and peered down, his fear dispersing rapidly.
'Interesting,' he murmured to himself. 'Fascinating, unbelievable! And to think that we should have the honour of finding it'
'What do you think it is. Professor?' Gavin asked with an arm around Liz. 'Or to be more precise where do you think it came from? A prehistoric era? Life preserved in the mud?'
Professor Lowson shook his head.
'No,' he replied, 'definitely not. It is not of this earth. That slime is proof enough of that. I would say that somehow it has come from another world—a distant planet; another galaxy. Somewhere where it lives beneath greyish-green mud. Though how or why it is here is beyond me.'
That's crazy,' Gavin laughed. Hollow and unconvincingly. 'A beast from another planet! There has to be a logical explanation somewhere. Maybe it's come from a zoo, or a safari park. Caught up in the wilds of South America or some such place, then escaped.'
Professor Lowson rarely laughed. He did now, but there was no mirth in it, only peals of semi-hysterical laughter rang out until Gavin and Liz both feared that his mind had snapped. Suddenly he stopped. He was rational again and cantankerous.
'No,' he murmured. 'Not even the darkest jungles of the Amazon could produce anything like this. Yet it has come from somewhere and we have been privileged to find it.'
Dusk was now turning to darkness. A good half-hour's walk lay ahead of them and Gavin did not relish the idea of losing their way on the saltings. Especially with a loathsome creature like that in the vicinity. It was sleeping, yes, but surely it must awake sometime.
'We'd better make a move.' He helped 'Liz to her feet 'First thing tomorrow morning I'll get a call through to the British Museum. This is something they won't want to miss.'
But Lowson's voice stung him like a whiplash. 'No. This is ours. Yours, Liz's, Mine! The greatest discovery of all time and you would let someone else take the credit for it! Allow ourselves to be merged into anonymity? Think again, man! Anyway we haven't had a chance to examine it properly yet. We cannot dismiss it with a cursory examination in the half-light. The best thing we can do is to come back here tomorrow and have a good look in broad daylight; take a few tests, and then we can decide what we are going to do.'
Gavin nodded. It seemed logical. Just so long as nobody else found it in the meantime!
Professor Lowson followed Gavin and Liz. He spoke little, his mind occupied with recent events. That fool Gavin Royle. It was typical of his bre
ed to want to call in the experts right away! Experts! They would have even less idea of the beast's origin than he had. His theories would be dismissed Somebody in authority would come up with some preposterous notion. Earliest form of man and all that rot. He could visualise the small part his own expedition would play in the days that followed. The newspapers would report the thing as having been 'discovered by a small party searching for King John's lost treasure'. Maybe even no names would be mentioned. And what would they do with the monster? Most likely put it in a cage and charge extortionate prices for the public to come and gawp at it! It might even die. Then the taxidermists would resurrect it There was something else though. Something which only he had noticed. Something which emanated from the thing. Power! He could not explain it even to himself; he just knew it—felt it! Like waves of atomic radiation. Evil but omnipotent
He thought about it again. Power was made to be harnessed, used and controlled. Take robots for instance: machinery, greater in strength than a whole nation of people; yet mindless and built to serve. This beast was a robot except that it lived. Probably it 'lacked the logic of even earliest man.
It needed a master, and only one man in a million would be able to do it: Professor John Lowson! He smiled at the thought. No good saying anything to either Gavin or Liz. Neither of them had any ambition.
It could be done. He didn't see how at this very moment but most certainly he would find a way. All he needed was time. Time for research. Time to apply the findings of that research. So far he had gained a day. Tomorrow they would spend with the slumbering beast, but the day after ... Gavin would certainly want to get in touch with the British Museum then.
Fortunately the darkness prevented the other two from seeing his expression. Nothing would stop him. There were ways and means of silencing his companions ... for good, even if one of them was his niece. Calor-gas had a nasty habit of leaking, particularly during the nocturnal hours when people slept... never to waken! Still, there was always the chance that they would listen to reason.
The block house loomed up ahead of them, gaunt and uninviting.
Liz collapsed into the nearest chair as soon as they entered, quivering with relief.
Gavin busied himself preparing the food. 'Perhaps it would be best if you stopped here tomorrow. After all, apart from that horrible thing in the mud that smell can't do anybody a lot of good. You stand a chance of catching diphtheria as much as anything.'
But her expression was defiant 'You two aren't going to steal all the glory. After all it's just a... Slime Beast!'
'The Slime Beast.' Gavin paused and turned round. 'Say, that sounds a good name for it. The Slime Beast... sums' it up perfectly.'
He handed the other two a mug of soup each and picked one up for himself.
'Well, I guess we'll know a good deal more about it by this time tomorrow. Then we'll really be able to give the boys some info to start on.'
Professor Lowson took his soup back to his quarters with him. He "would take no chances on his expression revealing his thoughts.
CHAPTER THREE
THE meal such as it was, seemed to revive them. New life coursed through their veins and all traces of tiredness disappeared. Gavin looked at his watch.
'Eight o'clock,' he said. Too early for an early night even. We could always go into Sutton for a drink. We can take the Land Rover.'
Liz began brushing her hah'. 'Good idea. I could do with a break. Just to get out of this stuffy hole for an hour or so will be a relief.'
She went into the adjoining compartment to tell the Professor and found him seated at a card-table, surrounded by books and papers, busily writing in his notebook. He did not even look up.
'Uncle Jack,' she said. 'Gavin and I are just popping into Sutton for a drink.'
'Hmm. . .' he carried on writing. She went back to Gavin.
'He's lost in his own little world,' she smiled. 'Probably writing a thesis on the Slime Beast. Getting it all ready to hand over to the British Museum along with the thing itself. Ugh!' she shuddered.
There was only one pub in Sutton: The Bull, which stood just back from the estuary in the centre of a row of untidy cottages.
They noticed the name over the door as they entered:
Thomas Southgate—Licensed to sell Beer, Spirits and Tobacco.'
There was just a public bar: nothing else. Bare boards, half a dozen tables and chairs and a dartboard at the far end. Some fishermen were playing dominoes and three or four more clustered round the bar. The large bearded man pulling pints of ale was obviously Tom Southgate. He was sullen and spoke little.
Gavin ushered Liz into one of the chairs and walked up to the bar. Southgate looked up, saw him, scowled and carried on serving. Surly bastard, Gavin thought
'A pint of bitter and a scotch and ginger,' he said when his turn came.
'You're one of these treasure-hunters I suppose,' South-gate mumbled as he took Gavin's money.
Gavin nodded. Probably Glover had been hi here shooting his mouth off.
'Wastin' yer own bloody time as well as spoilin' other people's livinV the landlord banged the change down noisily on the bar. 'Don't yer think the bloody stuff would've been found by now if it was there? Bloody 'ell! The Wash's been dug over about ten times by twits like you! '
Gavin felt his blood rising but fought to control himself. 'You should be glad of the trade. Just think of the crowds who would flock here if it really was found.'
'And we can bleedin' well do without 'em,' Southgate spat back. Tt ain't theirs to look for anyway. If it is out there then I says it should stop there. It ain't hurting nobody. People've got a livin' to make. Besides you don't know what you're meddlin' with. There's queer things go on out on them marshes. Take that meteorite the other night. If that wasn't a sign to warn you off then I don't know what was.'
'What meteorite?' Gavin was unable to curb the excitement in his voice.
The one that crashed down on the saltings just on closing time o'course,' Southgate had obviously little or no patience with anybody. 'Everybody round 'ere saw it. Came down slowly, almost driftin'. A flamin' mass. Landed out on the edge o' the saltings somewhere. Like I said you'd do well to mind yer bloody own business mister. Yer never knows. One might come down on that blockhouse you've taken it into yer 'eads to camp in. That's a bleedin' liberty if ever there was one!'
Gavin said nothing, ignoring the guffaws and aside remarks from the regulars. His mind was in a whirl as he carried the drinks back to Liz.
'Did you hear that?'
'About the meteorite? You don't think that what Uncle said could have been true do you?' Her complexion was a shade paler. 'I mean do you really think that the Slime Beast came from outer space? And if so, why?'
'I don't know what to think, but it certainly adds up. As to why it came ... well, the Russians experimented with monkeys in space, didn't they? Imagine an alien race, amphibians possibly on a distant planet, a world of mud and water. Perhaps their planet is drying up. They need to look for another. Earth has more than its fair share of the type of terrain they require to live in, so they sent the old Slime Beast as an experiment But something went wrong, and the ship caught fire and crash-landed on the marshes of the Wash, burying itself and its occupant deep in the mud. As luck would have it the Professor's metal detector located the burnt fragments and we've dug up this monster. Miraculously its still alive. AH conjecture of course but where do we go from here?'
'It's too horrible to think about,' Liz shuddered and sipped her whisky. 'Just suppose they decided to send another. Or suppose they all came. Emigrated in force!'
Gavin drained his glass and stood up. 'For all we know they may be perfectly harmless. We're judging this one solely on its looks.'
'And smell,' Liz wrinkled her nose.
'Anyway we'd better get back and see what your uncle has to say to this latest development'
As they went out Gavin heard Southgate talking to one of his regulars. 'Interferin' bastards,' the lan
dlord said, 'they oughta walk into the quick sands up to their bleedin' necks. If I was standin' nearby with a rope I wouldn't throw it 'em. Let 'em go under I would.'
Professor Lowson was still poring over his books and papers when Gavin and Liz returned. Gavin opened the door so that some of the tobacco haze could drift out, and briefly related what they had heard in The Bull. Lowson's eyes narrowed and he listened attentively.
'So,' Gavin concluded, 'there may be some truth in your theory after all.' '
'Hmm,' the Professor looked thoughtful and then returned to his work. He was not in a communicative mood tonight.
Liz heard the door of her 'bedroom' open softly about half an hour after she had crawled into her sleeping-bag.
'Is that you Gavin?' she whispered.
'No, it's the Slime Beast,' he chuckled softly.
'Don't joke about it please, Gavin,'
She felt him lower himself down beside her.
'I'm sorry,' he kissed her lightly. 'I can hear your uncle snoring his head off. You didn't mind me coming in did you?'
'Of course not'
They lapsed into silence for some minutes. Gavin had brought his own sleeping-bag with him and was sitting on it. She stretched out her hand. He guided her fingers where he wanted them. It was as though an electric current had suddenly surged through his whole body. He pressed her backward and kissed her. Her hand never moved away.
'If we zip these two sleeping-bags together,' he murmured, 'we can make them into a double one.' . 'OK.' Her reply was eager. 'I'm not wearing anything at all by the way!'
'I shan't be in a minute,' he breathed, already unbuttoning his shirt and pulling off his jeans. 'We shall have to light the lamp so we can fix these zips.'
Gavin made sure that he was completely naked before he lit the lamp. As the small enclosed place began to fill with light he undid Liz's sleeping-bag and threw the top cover back.
They looked at each other. Her large brown eyes focused on his erect manhood, his on her small firm breasts. Subconsciously she brought her legs together as he looked and he had only a fleeting glimpse of the moist pinkness among the dark hairs.