Title: Sum of His Parts
Author: Squeezynz
Chapter: Nine - Out of Their Depth
Rating: PG13
Pairing: Stabby
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Nick appeared, rubbing his eyes. He'd barely managed to nod off before Becker was back, shaking his shoulder and whispering something about Stephen and Abby. Careful not to disturb Connor slumbering in the next cot, Nick followed the Special Ops Captain after using the bathroom.
"What is all this about Stephen and Abby?"
One of the Becker's men was speaking urgently into a two way radio, repeating his message over and over but getting no response, other than static. Becker stood by one of the tables, the layout of the rig held down with coffee mugs at each corner. Rick stood to one side, an anxious expression creasing his careworn face.
"They're outside," Becker told him baldly. "And we have another problem. Seems that something is coming through that anomaly we haven't found yet."
"Something? What?" Nick scratched his chin and watched Becker unwrap a bundle of blue plastic sheeting taking up most of another table.
"This. Any ideas?" Becker pulled back the last corner to reveal a large whitish mass that looked like it might have resembled a giant maggot, or larvae, at some stage, but now had most of its insides on the outside.
"Where did you find this?" Nick picked up a fork from another table and poked at the revolting mass of flesh and bristles, the ooze starting to find ways out of the wrapping and onto the floor.
"It hit the side of the building pretty hard, broke a window with the force. It appears to have been picked up by the wind and thrown against the building."
"Like a tornado, you mean."
"Something like that. Any ideas of what it is? Is it one of those worms we dealt with in Tillingham?"
"Similar, but not necessarily the same. Hard to tell, the others were coated in mud, but anything is possible. At least it confirms that the anomaly is above the water line, otherwise these would have sunk without trace, they're not an aquatic species. Also means it's close, very close, if the wind picked these babies up." Nick suddenly remembered what else Becker had told him. "What about Stephen and Abby?"
"They went for a walk and appeared to have got themselves lost within the complex and shut outside," Becker informed him, his hands resting on his hips in an age old expression of exasperation. "Stephen couldn't tell us where they were, only that they had been shut out. I'm assuming that Hart will be trying to find a way to get them back inside....somehow."
A bright flash of lightning illuminated the room briefly, followed by a booming clap of thunder, the men all turning to stare at the small windows lining the common room. Nick winced and turned back to Becker. "It's also a possibility that the anomaly is here, on this rig, and these things are not being blown by the wind off the ocean, but being blown off the superstructure!"
"You mean we could be crawling with these things?" Rick asked, looking grim. "Can they damage the rig itself?"
"Don't know, but I think we need to find out and soon, plus get our people back inside at once!"
"Without the radio's working, we have no idea where Stephen or Abby could be. He said something about a door slamming shut on them," Becker informed him before turning to the manager. "Can you show us where all the doors leading to the outside are situated?"
Rick scanned the layout and pointed to half a dozen possible exits, Becker ringing them in red pen.
"Are the doors alarmed? That would pinpoint which door they went out of at least."
Rick shook his head. "Because it's an unmanned rig, they didn't bother with the alarm system after all the personnel had left. Only a regular maintenance crew use these rooms, and that's not every day, or even every week."
"Can we secure this place? Seal it off to keep these bugs out?" Becker next asked him, the man scratching his head as he tried to think of the answer.
"Possibly...maybe...it wasn't exactly considered when they built all this. Fire proof yes, bug proof...I don't know," Rick finally answered.
"Show me on the map where's the best place to withdraw to. We can't hope to seal off everywhere, but if this is fireproof, you should be able to seal off the passageways at regular intervals, right?"
The rig manager nodded and pointed out the information on the map. Lightning suddenly spiked through the window, rain now slashing against the glass, driven horizontal by the wind.
"What are we going to do about Abby and Stephen?" Nick asked, drawing Becker's attention away from the layout of the oil rig.
"We have to hope they are able to find some way of getting back in. If they don't know about these larvae, then they soon will. I'll send men to check on all the access doors to the outside, and we're keeping the radio channel open in case they call again. Once we've secured this place we'll form a search party and start looking - if they don't turn up in the next hour, okay?"
Nick looked anything but okay with Becker's plan of action, but he could understand the sense of it, he only hoped it played out the way the Captain expected. His worried gaze swung back to the table and it's gruesome burden. "I'll get Connor up and finding out what this creature is."
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Stephen had come to the same conclusion as Nick, at about the same time, the only difference being that Stephen had first hand knowledge that the creatures were indeed being blown off the metalwork in the gale force winds, as opposed to Nick's hypothesis of what was happening.
"There must be hundreds of them," he shouted to Abby, the heap of bodies piling up at the bottom of the wall testimony to the force snatching the creatures from their lofty perch, and hurling them back to earth. The beam of their torch illuminated the grisly carnage, some of the worm like larvae not killed on impact, but mortally injured, their writhing bodies spewing innards and gore as they tried to crawl away.
Abby felt sick to her stomach, heartily wishing she'd never suggested they take a walk and certainly never opened that door.
Every time they tried to go around the corner they were forced back by the sheer force of the gale, Abby now so cold she couldn't feel her fingers or feet. Stephen had tried the radio numerous times but without success, getting only static for his efforts.
"We have to move from here," Stephen shouted to be heard, stepping forward to boot one of the huge caterpillar like worms back, not trusting it, despite the slick trail of blood indicating it was injured.
"It is getting a bit crowded," Abby shouted back, her body past the chattering teeth stage.
"We have to get around these creatures, and avoid being hit by any of them."
"Lead on, I'll be right behind you."
"Don't let go of my belt and kick any that come to close. They have teeth."
Abby nodded her understanding of his instructions, setting her mouth in a grim line and looping her hand through his jeans belt, the warmth of Stephen's lower back searing her cold knuckles. Stephen started to lead them past the heaped worms, the wind nearly bowling them both over once they left the relative shelter of the lee, the thump and slap of another creature hitting the wall above their heads making them duck, and hurry forward. One of the dead and dying appeared to lunge at Abby's boots, making her stumble before she kicked out, sending the larvae reeling back.
They passed the stairway leading back up to the door they'd come through, the ground all around them littered with writhing bodies and slick with gore, one larvae, still airborne, catching Stephen on the shoulder and nearly sending him to his knees, only Abby acting as a counter weight prevented him from landing on his face. The creature was very much alive, having avoided being dashed against the wall, and vigorously tried to strike out, missing Stephen by inches as he and Abby stumbled past.
"Too close," Abby yelled, the wind snatching her words away. They were being driven by the storm along the side of the building, bodies littering the ground all around, both of them having to jump over the dead while avoiding those still alive and questing for prey, despite their injuries. Abby happened to glance up just as lightning rent the sky, illuminating everything around them in stark detail before fading. What she saw made her mouth go dry with horror. Stephen was leading them towards what looked like a hut or outbuilding nestled among the pipes snaking across the platform. They hadn't seen another door since they'd left the stairway, so the squat building looked like their best bet for shelter both from the storm, and the creatures infesting the rig. They had just reached the scant shelter of the doorway when the skies opened and rain sleeted down in a solid sheet, drenching them in seconds. Luck was with them and the door opened, being on the lee side of the building. Stephen pulled them both inside then slammed the door shut. Abby prised her fingers free of his belt, not moving until Stephen shone the torch about, showing her a chair which she promptly sat down on, gasping to catch her breath. A loud thump as something landed on the roof made her cry out in shocked surprise, both of them looking up for several long seconds before the absence of any further noise allowed them to relax a bit.
"Unless they grow arms and legs, they can't get in here," Stephen tried to reassure her, another thump making him flinch despite his best efforts.
"There are millions of them out there, all up in the super structure. The metal work is crawling with them," Abby told him, her breathing still rapid, clouding the cold air.
"The anomaly must be on, or under the oil rig platform for them to be able to climb all over it," Stephen added, flashing the beam of the torch around the room. A few steps brought him over to the wall near the door, a quick flick and the room was bathed in welcome light, just the effect of banishing the dark enough to give them hope.
The room was obviously some sort of monitoring station, one wall given over to a bank of dials and read outs, all of them currently dark with only one red light blinking slowly off to the side. Down another wall was a wide window looking out over the platform, a bench running along underneath with a console of switches and buttons. Several chairs on wheels were scattered about, Abby sitting on one, the third wall lined with shelving and lockers with bric-a-brac heaped on top.
What space was left was plastered with out of date girly calenders and technical posters, several warning of the need for hard hats at all times, and mandatory carrying of gas masks. The last item visible was a small box marked with a bright red cross hung in a space beside the door. Stephen put down the torch and spent several seconds rolling his shoulder to ease the bruising caused by the hit from the airborne maggot.
"Does it hurt?" Abby asked, waved back into her seat when she made to stand up, Stephen giving her a crooked smile.
"Nothing broken, just sore." He snagged the radio from the back of his jeans and thumbed the switch again, not expecting anything but static, but he had to try. "Stephen calling Becker, Nick or anybody, can you hear me?" Again he could just make out a garbled voice amongst the static, but nothing clearer. "I'm going to assume you can hear me, although I can't receive you. We're safe for the time being. The rig is crawling with creatures, millions of them according to Abby. They are about a foot long and look like larvae or some sort worm, they have teeth and bristles. Not the same as what we found before in that field, but something like. Probably Mesozoic, maybe Permian."
He listen to the static for a few seconds before turning the radio off and all but throwing it onto the work bench. He leant heavily on the bench and peered out into the semi darkness beyond the glass. Every few seconds something blew past the window, pale bodies propelled by the storm and meeting their doom among the pipes and hard surfaces of the deck.. A sound behind him made him turn, the cause the young woman trying to warm herself by wrapping her arms about her torso and rocking. He briefly wondered why he felt so warm, when she was so obviously cold. Crossing the short distance between them, he shucked off his outer layer. "Here, put this on."
Abby looked up at him standing in front of her, holding out his top, and wondered how he could stand there in nothing but a long sleeve shirt. She shook her head and flapped her arms to instil some warmth into her frozen limbs. Suddenly Stephen was pulling her arms away from her body and manhandling her into the sweatshirt, the sleeves too long for her, but the instant warmth, carried over from being worn against his body, sinking into her chilled flesh felt heavenly.
"But you're get cold now," she tried to argue, Stephen ignoring her and chafing her cold hands to restore their circulation. A scrabbling sound at the door froze them in place, both of them turning their heads to look at the door, Stephen quickly assessing it's strength, while Abby darted her eyes around the room looking for an escape route in case the creatures broke through. The sound continued for several minutes, the interior of the hut like a frozen tableau with neither of them moving. At length the noise stopped and they both let out a long held breath, Stephen continuing to envelop her hands in his to warm them, despite his head turning to do as Abby had done, and assess their chances of escape if the door was compromised.
"It's the door or break the window," Abby answered the question she saw in his eyes.
"They won't get in, so don't worry so," Stephen chided her, forcing a smile to his lips and hoping she couldn't read the worry in his gaze. She could, and she did, her own anxiety cranking up a notch with another thump from above their heads.
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"Sir, he's right. The rigging and everything on the platform is infested," the soldier manning the hand held reported to Becker. "Stephen also reports that they're safe."
"Well, that's something at least." Nick ran a hand through his already disordered hair, worry creasing his forehead and deepening the lines around his mouth.
"I suggest we spend what's left of the night getting some rest. There's nothing further we can do from here until we have some light out there. Connor can't identify these creatures, and we've secured this area as much as we can. Stephen and Abby have said they're safe, and so are we."
"Sleep? Knowing what's crawling about out there?" Rick's voice had risen a notch, the special ops men eyeing him warily. Dealing with civilian's in these situations was always tricky, and panicky civilians the last thing you wanted on your hands in an emergency. Becker stepped forward and placed a comforting hand on the man's brawny shoulder.
"We are completely safe here, and we don't expect anyone other than ourselves to go out there when it gets light. You, Connor and the Professor will remain here while me and my men do a reconnaissance and look for Hart and Abby. Alright?"
Rick swallowed and slowly nodded his head, belatedly realizing that his tough oil man credibility had taken a dent. Nick hadn't argued with Becker about him staying behind, because he knew it for the ploy it was, to reassure the poor man, but there was no way in hell he was going to be sitting safely behind thick walls while Stephen and Abby were left to face whatever had infested the platform outside.
Soon Becker was switching the lights off in the common room, leaving one man on watch to monitor the radio and patrol the limits of their safe house, while everyone else retired to the bunk room and tried to sleep. The soldiers were the most successful, dropping off quickly while Nick, Connor and the rig manager, lay wide awake and listening to the storm howl around the exterior.
"Professor?" Connor's sibilant whisper easily reached Nick in the next bed over.
"What, Connor?"
"Sorry I couldn't identify the creature. All I can say is, it's not the creature from Tillingham or the rag worm wannabes from the high rise. They're something else again."
"Don't worry about it, Connor. Even Stephen could only guess at where they came from. Try and sleep, we'll know more in the morning." Just as he finished speaking, something landed with a heavy thump on the roof of the sleeping quarters, Connor's indrawn breath loud in the silence that followed. Nick stared up into the darkness for several minutes, his body tense, but when no further sounds were forthcoming, he purposefully relaxed every tense muscle in his long frame.
"Why worms?" Connor whispered lament came from the next door bed. "I hate worms. Why couldn't they be nice furry mammals with nothing more lethal than a taste for acorns and too much fur?"
Nick chuckled to himself. "Maybe through the next anomaly Connor.....try to rest."
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Becker's shake roused Nick, what seemed to him, to be only seconds later. Light was streaming through the high windows as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. Nearly all the bunks were empty, except for Rick and Connor's. Responding to Becker's finger indicating quiet, Nick pulled on his boots and snagged his jacket before following the soldier from the bunkroom.
The rest of the men were checking weapons in the common room, quietly assuming battle readiness, while Nick tried to clear the sleep from his eyes, downing a cup of coffee to wake his brain up.
All too soon they were making ready to leave, Becker handing Nick a gun, which he promptly returned. "No thank you, I leave that to the experts."
Becker gave the Professor an arch look, having witnessed plenty of times, as well as read the historic reports, when Nick had quite capably handled a weapon.
Admittedly, since the incident of the original Stephen dying, the man had stuck to largely non lethal guns, preferring to dart the creatures that wandered through anomalies, leaving Becker and his men to carry the real fire power.
"If you say so, Cutter." Re-holstering the pistol, Becker signalled his men and they filed out of the room, leaving one man behind to hold the fort, before heading to the first barricade. They passed beyond that with no sign that the creatures had found a way inside the complex, securing it behind them before passing on. At last they reached a door that Becker indicated led to the outside. The door was stuck firm and they had to cut through the lock to get it open. The wind outside was still strong, carrying with it a stench that made Nick hurriedly cover his nose and mouth before stepping onto the small metal deck overlooking the platform below.
They were looking out over a scene of carnage, the sights and sounds, as well as the smell, beyond anything they could imagine. At the bottom of the stairway leading down to the deck, heaped bodies of dead and dying creatures lay up against the walls all the way along, the piles heaving as the dying writhed under the bodies of their dead companions. If that wasn't bad enough, more of the creatures were ranged along the edge of the piles of corpses, feeding on them, cannibalizing their fellows and making Nick heave at the scene before him. Everywhere were wriggling, squirming bodies, seething and climbing over each other to get at the feast, covering most of the metal platform in a living carpet of bristling, pale skin.
Nick looked up and felt his eyes widen further. Dangling from several of the booms of the cranes were large, dark chrysalis, like over ripe fruit, swaying in the wind and knocking together. It was all so surreal Nick had trouble taking it all in.
Becker was peering over the edge of the metal railing at the ground below, ignoring the gagging noises from one of his men losing his breakfast over the side further down. "We need to get down there, it's a fraction clearer under the shelter of the stairs. We'll drop ropes from here."
The bottom of the stairs, Nick could see, was piled high to nearly the seventh step with dead bodies of the creatures, several of the living clambering over the corpses to feast at the top of the heap. He stayed where he was while Becker and his men secured ropes, before shinning over the side to land on the deck below. Becker called for Nick to follow, which he did, before being followed over by the last couple of soldiers who landed beside him more gracefully than he did.
He swallowed the nausea clawing at his throat and looked around. About a hundred meters away sat a squat building, Becker already leading a path through the dead creatures laying at their feet. Nick slipped on a patch of thick ichor and one of the men steadied him, kicking away one not so dead creature that lifted its black muzzle as the men passed by.
They reached the building, taking a circuitous route around the piled bodies, several of them up against the door, which had to be cleared before they could open it. Inside they found more dead bodies, but these showing evidence that they had been bludgeoned to death, rather than been killed by the storm. The big windows along one side were smashed, Becker pointing out that the glass indicated it had been broken from the inside.
"Looks like whoever was in here broke out," The Captain announced, scowling down at the evidence. "If it was Stephen and Abby...." Becker paused, "there's nothing to indicate either was hurt when they escaped."
Nick was looking up at the ceiling, seeing the wrecked decorative panels that indicated how the creatures had gained access. One of the men picked up a piece of equipment off the floor.
"His radio sir," he said, before handing it to Becker. Nick decided it was time to speak up.
"Did you notice those things hanging off the cranes and cross bracing?" He waited for Becker to nod. "That indicates that these are just larvae, caterpillars. Those chrysalis mean this is just a stage of their development. We need to find out what's in those chrysalis and destroy them, before they hatch whatever winged insect they turn in to. Given the size of these critters, they're gonna be big!"
"And I hardly need to point out," Becker continued, for the benefit of his men, "that having unidentified winged insects flying about is not an option. We'll split into two groups....one to look for Hart and Miss Maitland, the other to climb that crane and see about destroying those sacks. If we can cut them down, we can burn them."
"What about all these?" Nick waved his arm to encompass the considerable infestation covering most of the rig.
"One problem at a time Professor. Would you agree that those," Becker pointed to the dark bundles suspended from the rigging, "are more of a threat than those?" He pointed to one of the bristly creatures undulating it's way towards the nearest dead body, intent on a meal.
"Agreed, but I think you underestimate the scale of the problem. Those.." Nick pointed up, "are only the ones we can see. They could be anywhere." Nick dropped his arm to point downwards. "If the anomaly is under us, as I suspect, then they could be all through the framework beneath this deck. Even with the best will in the world, there are simply not enough of us to tackle a job of this scale!"
Becker chewed his lip as he pondered their alternatives. Looking up, he fixed Nick with a steady gaze. "The Professor is right. This is too much for us to deal with. Forget what I just said, this has just become a demolition mission. The only way we can stop these creatures from all turning into their winged alternative, is to destroy the rig."
Nick gaped at the Captain. "Are you mad!"
Becker returned his look calmly. "Have you any other suggestions to halt what is, basically, an invasion of these creatures?" He watched Nick splutter for a second before continuing. "You've said it yourself, we can't do this by simply cutting them down, there's too many. If, as you suggest, the anomaly is still spewing these things out, then this rig is history. I'm supposing they can't swim?" Becker raised an eyebrow, but Nick could only spread his hands.
"Not enough information to go on, but I'd be surprised if they could. They don't appear to be water borne larvae, like mosquitoes, but don't quote me on that." Even as he gave his opinion, the vision of a giant mosquito and the havoc it would wreak, let alone hundreds of them, was enough to make him feel ill again.
"Quite. So we destroy this platform, drown the bugs and burn up the chrysalis. If, after all that, the anomaly is still open, there's nowhere for the bugs to go but into the ocean where the sea will take care of them."
Nick huffed. "Not sure Greenpeace would condone your proposed action. The pollution from this rig alone will have far reaching consequences, let alone the likelihood of larvae bodies washing up on local beaches. How do you propose to explain those?"
"Not my brief. I leave that to the PR experts," Becker retorted, giving Nick a small smile.
"Do you have enough explosive to blow up a rig this size?" Nick asked, mentally calculating the quantity of gear the men had arrived with.
"We won't need much. This platform is a bomb waiting for a fuse, as it is. We just need to cause enough leeks of oil and gas at strategic points to initiate an explosion that won't leave much for the salvage crews to recover."
"I get the feeling this situation isn't entirely new to you Captain Becker?" Nick raised an eyebrow at the younger man, watching the features set into a mask.
Becker ignored his comment and turned to his men. "Carter, return and get the cee-four. Rouse the rig manager, we'll need to know precisely what valves and pipes we need to sabotage. Contact base and organize a rescue chopper and give them a sit-rep. If Mr. Jones gives you any grief, bring him out here and show him what we're dealing with. Explain to him that the rig is history with, or without his cooperation."
"Yes sir!" Carter snapped off a salute before running out of the room, half the men following him, while the rest waited for Becker to continue.
"We'll carry on and search for our missing people. Let's move out!" Becker led them out of the room and back onto the deck, Nick not at all sure that any amount of explosive could destroy the tons of metal forming the structure around them.
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Their escape from the control hut, sending them on a precipitous flight across the seething deck, found them dodging around writhing bodies until Stephen spotted a flight of steps leading down to a lower deck, only one or two of the worms finding their way down the steep stairway to block the door. Kicking them aside, they both heaved on the metal door, thankful to find it unlocked but heavy, barely bothering to open it more than a crack to allow them to slip through before letting it clang shut tight behind them.
Swinging the torch around they saw metal lined corridors stretching off in two directions, the sound of the sea much closer as they cautiously made their way along the left hand passageway. The first door opened on to a room full of pipes and a bank of valve wheels, gauges indicating that it was some sort of pumping room and not intended for anything other than inspection. Further along, they found a small supply room lined with shelves displaying all manner of tools and spare parts, along with safety equipment, clothing, hard hats and life jackets. There was no access to the outside and only a air vent, the thin ribbons showing a steady flow of air coming through to ventilate the room.
Abby was shivering, their mad dash across the deck in the pouring rain once more leaving them soaked to the skin. While Abby remained by the door, Stephen inspected the cupboards and shelves, finding a stack of overalls and thermal shirts, along with wet weather jackets and trousers.
"We can change into these." He held them out for Abby to see. She reached out a hand and touched the bright, fluro-orange boiler suits and snorted her amusement.
"I have nail polish this colour!" Taking the one on top, she quickly shucked off her wet clothes down to her underwear, leaving them in a pile while she pulled on first the thermal shirt, then the hideously coloured over all. It completely swamped her small frame but it was dry and warm. Stephen even managed to find some incredibly thick work socks that she could pull on up to her knees with ease. Bundling her wet gear up, she cleared a metal frame shelf unit and used it to drape her sodden clothes over to dry.
Stephen finished changing behind her, looking only slightly less ridiculous in the rigger's gear, the garments more suited to his height than hers, the legs of which pooled around her ankles like baggy stockings.
She used a spare shirt to towel her hair, leaving it standing up in spikes before handing it to Stephen to use, his hair ending up similar to hers, sticking up in all directions.
"I don't suppose they have any emergency rations in here?" Abby asked, her body making demands now that the immediate crisis had been addressed. "A hot drink would go down really well about now."
"Not that I've found so far. We could go and explore further along this corridor. Maybe there's another canteen in this part of the rig."
Pulling on one of the wet weather jackets, Abby snagged another pair of socks to pull over the ones already on her feet and made for the door.
They checked before stepping out of the room, still no sign that the creatures, littering the deck above, had managed to find a way down to their level. Abby saw a switch box directly opposite the doorway and flipped the one marked 'Lights', the hallway immediately illuminated with bulkhead lights set at even intervals on both sides. Stephen switched off their torch and slung it back over his shoulder.
Together they set off, following the corridor until they reached another door. Abby was glad of the extra pair of socks on her feet, the metal floor cold and hard underfoot. The new door led into a large room that looked like a central planning office, with broad desks and big maps on display around the walls. Stephen approached one that looked like a cutaway illustration of the platform, his finger tracing over the lines to find where they'd come in, and possibly locate a way back for them both. Abby had spotted something in the corner and was shuffling as fast as her stocking feet would carry her.
"What have you found?" Stephen called out, not turning his head from his contemplation of the maps.
"Salvation!" Abby whooped, brandishing a mug in one hand and a tin of coffee in the other. "No milk, and we'll have to wait for the water to boil.....but we can live off coffee and hot chocolate for a bit, can't we?"
"I think I've found a way to get us back to the living quarters," Stephen announced after several minutes, Abby appearing beside him and handing over a mug of some dark brew that steamed in the cool air. "Thanks....look here.." He traced a finger over the map, indicating to her where he thought they were, and where they needed to get back to. "We can get pretty close without having to go back up on the deck."
"That'll be a plus. Those creatures gross me out. I've already had my fill of giant worms trying to eat me with those hideous things we tackled in that tower in the city." She noticed Stephen giving her a curious look and could have kicked herself. "Sorry, that was before you arrived....."
"Was the other Stephen there?"
"Yes. He was trapped in one of the offices, while me and Connor had to find a way to vent the gas keeping them alive." Abby bit her lip, ducking her head to sip at her own mug of black coffee.
They didn't speak of Stephen very often, in fact she could count on one hand the number of times the missing member of the team was mentioned. She felt a brief pang of guilt for that, wondering at herself for so easily replacing their own Stephen with this clone wearing his face and body. Despite the similarities in appearance and knowledge, they were two completely different men, one so open and easy to read, the other a closed book with only flashes of the man behind the mask appearing, usually only in her presence, if ever. Even knowing the reasons behind his reticence with the revelations about Helen Cutter, she couldn't help being thankful that she, Abby Maitland, was being given an opportunity to get to know Stephen without the baggage of history and former mistakes on both their sides cluttering up their relationship. A yawn suddenly caught her unaware and she tried to stifle it unsuccessfully.
"You're tired," Stephen stated.
"Spending the night getting chased by, or running away from carnivorous worms will do that to a girl," Abby retorted, rubbing her gritty eyes. "Bet you're tired too."
A thinly padded bench was fixed to the wall near to the coffee maker, Stephen pulling Abby over to it. "We should be safe enough here, so get some rest."
"What about you?" She made to get up, but he pressed her down again with his hands on her shoulders.
"The bench isn't big enough for two, and not long enough for me. I'll make shift in one of the chairs."
Abby followed the direction of his gaze and eyed the hard, plastic conference chairs around one of the tables with a critical eye. "You'll be crippled if you sleep in one of those."
"Then I'll sleep on the floor. Either way, you need to rest."
"I need a bathroom first. That coffee has gone right through me," Abby complained, wishing now she'd never seen the coffee machine.
"Then lets go look before we do anything else. Come on." Stephen checked with one of the maps, tracing a route with his finger before once more snagging Abby's hand and all but dragging her out of the map room and down the passageway to the right. Several turns later, with Abby completely lost, they found a door marked with the simple illustration of a man and the welcoming word "Toilet" just underneath the figure. Abby pushed past Stephen and hurried to the nearest cubicle, slamming the thin door in her haste. Stephen made use of the facilities then wandered back out into the corridor while he waited.
The boom of the sea was even louder, this branch of the corridor ending within a few meters with a very business like looking hatchway with a big central wheel, something you'd expect to see on a ship or submarine. Curious, Stephen walked up to the door, assessing it for a moment before turning the wheel to release the lock and pull it open. A blast of damp, salty air swept over him as he pulled the hatchway open fully, the crash of waves almost deafening as he stepped out onto a metal gantry running under the drill platform, one of the massive support legs for the rig close to where he was standing.
He was surprised to see how light it had become since their escape from the worms, the weak morning light showing the surface of the sea nearly thirty meters below, the surface choppy, waves slapping against the uprights in a constant motion and scenting the air with brine and seaweed.
The gantry he was on stretched in all directions, spanning a short distance between other structures beneath the deck, the metal gleaming with sea spray, some sporting tendrils of sea grass thrown up by the turbulent sea below. He sensed someone behind him and turned to see Abby stepping through the hatch and onto the metal gantry beside him, her orange suit garishly bright in the half light of the morning.
"Wow. You weren't going to suggest we cross these and explore over there, were you?"
"According to the diagrams and layouts back there, those are mostly stations to monitor the flow of oil and gas up the drill head, plus others are to monitor the sea chains and anchors on the sea floor, also to regulate the propellers that keep the platform in one place."
"Are you saying this whole set up is floating?"
"Not exactly, but they need to compensate for the strong currents and storms like the one we just had, from shifting the rig around."
"Since when were you an expert on drill rigs?" Abby queried, her short hair whipping around her head as if it was alive.
"Connor was doing research on the flight over, remember?"
"You must be a really quick study." Abby grinned at him, taking the sting out of her words. She had to tilt her head to look up at him, and her grin quickly faded. "Oh God....look up there!"
Stephen followed her pointed arm and saw what had stolen what little colour she had in her face. Slowly gyrating above their heads, its fractured light unmistakable, was the anomaly, lodged deep within the superstructure underneath the platform, enabling anything that came through to crawl safely among the pipes and conduits and ultimately find a way up, and onto the platform above.
As their eyes tracked the anomaly, Abby let out a gasp and pointed to the shadowy sacks hanging down from nearly every vantage point, the bulky chrysalis swaying back and forth like pendulums in the wind blowing around the rigging. Even as they stared round eyed upwards, one of the chrysalis fell, its sticky attachment to the metalwork snapping and sending it plunging down towards the sea.
As luck would have it, it landed with a sickening crack onto the gantry right in front of them, the thickly woven bag-like structure flattening like a Hershey's Kiss and splitting open to spill it's contents in plain sight to it's captive audience.
The half formed creature inside slowly oozed out of the ruined casing, a huge crumpled wing appearing as the long, serpentine body uncoiled to flop dead and incomplete onto the metal walk way.
Abby could only look on in speechless horror as the implications of all those potential flying terrors swung innocently back and forth above their heads in their safe cocoons.
"We have to get back and warn the others. This is a disaster!" Backing away from the railing, Abby turned and ran back the way they'd come, jumping through the hatch and tearing along as fast as her stockinged feet would carry her. Stephen was right behind her, having the foresight to close the hatch before running after her, catching her up as she arrived at the first junction, unerringly guiding her back the way they'd come until they arrived at the door leading up to the platform above.
Abby reached for the door handle to wrench it open, but Stephen stopped her.
"We don't know what's on the other side, there could be a mountain of those things."
"Unless you know another, quicker way to get us back up there, this is the only way."
"Alright, but stand out of the way, if there are creatures piled up against the door, we'll need to get past them." He waited for her to move back before bracing himself against the door. He had barely moved the handle when the door started to move. Startled, he jumped back, standing in front of Abby, his body tense and ready to run or fight. Abby clutched at handful of his orange overalls, her breath short as they watched the door open.
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"Assuming they fled that pump room, it's a good bet they headed over this way. Keep an eye out for any likely bolt holes," Becker ordered, kicking another carcass out of the way as his remaining few men kept half an eye on the ground and the other half scanning for any sign of Stephen and Abby. Nick kept close to the Captain, glancing up and down as if watching a vertical tennis match, wishing that he could just call our their names and have his missing friends materialize in front of him.
"Over here sir!" One of the soldiers on point waved them over and indicated a stairway leading down below the deck. Several dead and dying larvae writhed sluggishly at the bottom, the metal door undamaged and relatively clear.
"Let's get it open," Becker ordered, the other men forming up and heading down the stairs, kicking aside the creatures to clear a path. Becker held up three fingers, counting down as his men prepared to open the door, none of them sure of what might be lurking on the other side. Swinging the door wide, the men trained their weapons on the dark maw for several seconds, but when nothing appeared to menace anyone, they advanced. Suddenly, two figures dressed in garish orange overalls appeared, the smaller of the pair instantly recognizable
"Abby!" Nick shouted, jumping down to greet the orange clad zoologist.
"Oh God, Nick...Nick, we found the anomaly, but there's more....these creatures are just the larval stage, we found cocoons!" Abby was talking a mile a minute, desperate to pass on their knowledge, Stephen appearing behind her, his expression uncertain.
"Stephen, thank goodness!" Nick reached out and pulled the younger man into a quick hug of relief that they were both alive and unharmed. "Can't say that orange does anything for the two of you."
Becker interrupted the reunion by asking about the anomaly. "Sorry to cut this short, but can you take us to the site so we can assess the situation?"
They all trooped back inside, shutting the door heavily behind them, the other soldiers already ranging down the passageway, checking it out for evidence of the creatures. Stephen spoke first.
"They haven't got in here, as far as we can tell. There's a secure hatch down there that leads out to a gantry under the platform. That's were we saw the anomaly."
"And the cocoons," Abby added. "There were more than I could count."
"They're up in the metalwork as well," Nick informed them, noting how grey and tired they both looked. "I guess you two had one hell of a night?"
Abby smiled weakly. "You have no idea." She cast a quick glance at Stephen. "It was my fault we got stuck outside. I wanted to see the rig at night, all the lights and stuff. It's not Stephen's fault the wind caught the door and slammed it shut."
Nick draped his arm about her shoulders and gave them a squeeze. "There's no blame, so don't take it to heart. You're both safe, that's all that matters." They had been walking while they were talking and were approaching the hatchway, Becker's men already positioned on the gantry beyond, all of them staring skywards.
Abby hung back beside Stephen to let Nick step through first, his head instantly tilting to look up at the anomaly still spinning slowly among the beams and pipework. Becker had a small digital recorder in his hand, documenting the site and surrounding super-structure, his men keeping a close lookout in case any of the creatures showed signs of hatching. Nick had walked out past the men to inspect the fallen chrysalis and the gory remains, Stephen joining him while Abby remained by the hatchway.
"Carboniferous, from the size, not Meganuera, possibly one we simply don't have a fossil record of yet," Stephen suggested, Nick turning his head to meet his eyes, before nodding in agreement.
"Another beasty to add to our collection. Would explain why Connor came up with nothing, but then the larvae wouldn't preserve very well in rock anyway, too much soft tissue."
Stephen gestured upwards. "A bit more than your usual incursion, I'm guessing?"
"Becker looks on it as an invasion, and if these creatures become airborne...." Nick let the sentence trail away, not needing to spell it out for the younger man.
"So what's our course of action? We can hardly poke all these critters back through the hole!"
"Nope. Blow up the rig."
Stephen glanced upwards at the tons of metal suspended over their heads. "Fuck."
Nick felt his eyebrows climb into his hairline at his surprise. It wasn't because he'd never heard his Stephen swear. His Stephen could turn the air blue with his colourful use of swear words. It was hearing the word from his clone, that caused Nick to look askance.
"Interesting use of that word," Nick couldn't resist the dig.
Stephen looked sheepish. "Isn't it the right usage? I thought...."
"No....no, it's entirely the right usage, given the situation. I was just surprised to hear you say it."
"Oh....well....I've heard the soldiers use it, and even Connor used it when he got his finger caught in the door the other day. I've haven't heard Abby use it though....is it not appropriate for me to use it around her?"
Nick had to blink and pause before answering. It was so easy to forget that this man before him, this clone of his dear friend, was not the Stephen everyone new. This was a man thrown into a time and place he had no experience of, a language and people he was new too and still learning about.
"I would keep your use of the word for extreme situation. Despite some people using it for every second word, it's still strong for ordinary conversations."
Clapping the younger man on the shoulder, Nick turned his back on the insect remains and went back to the others, feeling every one of his years and as tired as hell.
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Connor had greeted their return enthusiastically, peppering them with questions which Abby and Stephen did their best to answer, despite sleep dragging at their eyelids. Eventually Nick snagged the youngster and allowed the orange clad pair to shuffle off to the bunk room for some well earned rest.
"Let's go with Rick to the radio room and contact Lester, before everything is blown to hell."
Becker was busy with his men, poring over schematics of the rig, looking for the best way to destroy and sink the platform, taking the creatures and their cocoons with them. They only had a few hours before the rescue helicopters arrived to pull them all off the rig, so Nick hoped that nothing hatched before that time otherwise it was likely the demolition would be placed in the hands of air force jets and missiles, and a far bigger mess for Jenny to gloss over. It was going to be a public relations nightmare, whichever way you looked at it.
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