3. UNFORESEEN CONSEQUENCES

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The chamber lay in ruins: the overhead wheel had collapsed in three parts over the floor and the entire destabilization hub was totally unusable as a large hole exposed the wrecked mechanisms inside.

One of the slaves had appeared. G rushed out of the control room to dispose of the thing before it had time to charge up; yet, before he had entered the wrecked chamber, one of the military preceded him and stopped the slave cold with a point blank double barrel shot.

D, just out of the trance from seeing the disaster, rushed out of the control room above and charged into the destabilizer chamber.

He didn't exactly seem to be happy - and G could understand why.

"Now, G, you explain to me what happened. And you'd better be damn convincing!"

"Ssir, I did my part correctly! How could I know that the destabilizer did not..."

"No excuses, G! There's only one reason why all this happened: the material you brought back was NOT Etherthel."

D grabbed G by the neck, and lifted him up.

"This is going to be your first, and LAST mistake, G! You know how the superiors will feel about all this!"

G was dropped quite abruptly to the ground, making him drop his briefcase. His face expressed pain as he quickly grabbed it back.

"Now we must just hope that the Etherthel sample is still intact back in Sector C, or we'll have to resort to plan B to take big N down... And you'd better not even know what plan B is about."

D pulled out a radio from one of his mimetic suit's pockets.

"Tango, status. Over."

Nothing but static. The man was again visibly upset as his face got red in anger.

"Tango, status. Come in, Tango! Come in RIGHT NOW!"

More static, then a scared voice came in.

"Tango recon one reporting sir! Situation is critical, we have dimensional breach, repeat, dimensional breach! Resonance cascade type four, epicenter Anomalous Materials test labs. Current size is 1.4 hundred meters, failing at..."

The signal became weaker then completely disappeared as D's fist clenched the radio more and more tightly, and finally crushed it. Furious beyond imaginable, he then approached G, who had just recomposed himself.

G looked for a brief instant into D's anger filled eyes then was sent back to the floor by a punch in his guts.

*

The distant sound of an alarm echoed in Gordon's mind. Everything was black around him.

"Is this hell, at last...?"

He didn't want to open his eyes. Maybe if he didn't do so, everything would return to normal. Maybe if he didn't do so, he would find out that he had only been dreaming all along.

The alarm slowly became stronger, but it was only when a bolt of electricity hit the floor just a few paces from him that he realized that the sound was coming from the test room - the room he was in.

Slowly regaining consciousness, Gordon stood. More bolts creaked around the chamber. This was definitely not a dream, and even if it was, it was too real not to do something. Because if he stayed in there any longer, he was sure to die. Almost mindlessly, as if guided by pure instinct, he dashed to the chamber's exit, again being missed by another bolt by mere centimeters.

The antechamber had been blown apart, both of his friends lying in a pool of blood. They were obviously trying to escape, but the blast had caught them. There was no time to mourn. If he remained there, he was bound to have the same fate.

He tried to open the door, but all the fissures were too thin for his large fingers. Looking rapidly around the small room for anything to make lever with, he spotted a toolbox.

He crossed the room to reach it, yet another beam hitting the floor just outside the room. Inside the toolbox were a few screwdrivers, some tapes, some screws... And a crowbar!

"New utensil acquired: crowbar. Pocket 1 adapted and ready."

One of the many nice features of his suit.

He crossed the room again and broke open the door, shutting it back behind him.

The small corridor beyond was lit only by the red emergency lights, yet most of the walls were in good shape. The alarm sound still raged on.

He crossed the small corridor to the elevator and pressed the call button.

No answer.

A quick thought, and the suit responded to the command by automatically placing the crowbar back in his hands to force the elevator doors open.

He glanced inside, and, seeing no sign of the elevator itself not above nor below, decided to go for the emergency stairs.

A second thought, and the crowbar was back in its pocket, invisible from any external looker.

Gordon thought briefly back to when he first used the suit, how all and every function felt a technical wonder in itself.

Now the suit was all he had to survive.

Ironic, he thought as he climbed out of the shaft, the alarm still raging on and some cement dust coming down from the battered walls: the suit was supposed to help people travel in hazardous conditions but common knowledge was that it had never been tested outside a laboratory.

Gordon dismissed the thoughts as he climbed up to the next corridor. The roof had almost collapsed, and a few large slabs of reinforced concrete were on the floor, the emergency lights completely destroyed. A green bolt streaked a few meters in front of him, hitting something hidden by the walls, sparks flying everywhere.

The control room was just ahead, and the green beams were obviously still plaguing it, hitting the remnants of machinery from time to time.

Preparing for a run-through, he briefly considered stopping to check what had remained of his friends. Then, the images of the two people he saw just five minutes before flashed before his eyes; suppressing a need to puke, he realized only now how he didn't actually feel anything then.

But it was different now; instinct had done its part and conscious thought would make Gordon pass out if he saw anything like that again.

So he went back to the run-through. He waited for a pause in the beams' strikes, and gave all he had, the suit again aiding him. He made it barely in time, another beam hitting just where he had been a mere two seconds before. He rushed out of the door, never turning.

Reines was just beyond the doorway, ducking behind a pipe, fearful that the beams would hit him.

"Gordon? Gordon! You're alive. Thank God for that hazard suit!" Reines seemed agitated, yet excited.

"Karl... What happened?"

"We've had a resonance cascade, Gordon! A resonance cascade! Just as I had predicted, all along! Damn administrator, he just would not listen..."

Gordon pondered for a few seconds on the possibility as Reines talked, excited as a little kid.

"Resonance cascade? That's... that's impossible! You can't create a resonance cascade, and surely not one capable of destroying an entire room, especially one as protected as the test chamber, along with the control room!"

"But we did! Oh, and..." Reines seemed to realize his excitement was to be very short lived, as his expression saddened. "... its effect wasn't limited to just those rooms..."

It was only then that Gordon realized the destruction had taken an heavy toll here too: computers in the entire corridor had collapsed to the ground, and a terminal to the central computer was shattered.

Behind one collapsed data bank, he could see legs. He tried to approach them, but Reines stopped him. "You'd better not see what's there. The sight is not exactly pretty."

Damn. "Are there any survivors around here?"

"None that I'm aware of. I've already looked around the place and..." Reines made a pause "I found no one. I was about to leave, but I wanted to try and see if there was anyone still inside the test chamber going up.

"The elevator's still working? Good. Because there are no survivors inside there also. Have you called for help?"

"Impossible. All terminals are offline or destroyed, and the phone line is cut. We are stranded down here."

"Then, what are we waiting for? We'd better be going."

"But..."

"There's no time to mourn the dead. Unless we can get out of here before the structural damage worsens, we'll become casualties too!"

Reines looked confused as he reflected for a moment. "I... I guess you're right. Lead the way."

They crossed the room silently, and entered the still working elevator. After they pressed the button, nothing but the alarm and a low screech sound could be heard in the room.

*

"Again you've proven a failure, D. Tell us, why should we give you another chance?"

The big man was obviously uncomfortable. Even though the transmission was through a small monitor, his superiors' tone was clear; he was not going to walk away easily.

"I... I have another plan! There's a GRS in the science team. He will be our key to Xen."

"A GRS. Fighting our mistakes with the enemy's is..." there was a brief pause in the speech. D was holding his breath. "No, we understand what your plan is. We'll consider this option. Goodbye." The connection was closed, and D was alone.

He silently remained on his knees, eyes closed, face down, wating for his death.

*

The duo stepped out of the elevator after the brief ride. A shadow to his left warmed them;

"At least somebody is alive here!" Reines moved forward to greet the survivor. Gordon followed just a moment after Reines had been punched to the ground.

*BEEP* *BEEP* "Warning: unknown hostile biological entity detected within thirty meters. Entity signature not matched. Extreme prejudice advised."

Its head was formless and yellow, with no eyes. Its clothes, because it was clothed, were heavily drenched in dried blood and other - brain? - parts. Its lower part could have been mistaken for human, had at least its arms not been as long as the rest of its body, and ending with three sharp razors just relaxing from the crude punch that grounded Reines.

The creature staggered slowly but firmly towards Gordon, preparing to attack his next prey. Gordon looked down at Reines, who still looked alive, then back at the creature.

What should he do now? His thoughts were broken as sounds of gun shots echoed in the corridor.

The creature turned, with a surprising agility, to face the new threat. Its back, exposed, was even more disgusting, as it was completely torn open showing the internal organs, which for some mysterious reason didn't fall out and on the floor.

"Bring `em on!" Andreas Mason, the front desk guard, was firing away at the creature as it slowly walked to him. Four, five, six shots straight in what could have been the creature's head with deadly accuracy, and no result.

Seven, eight... Then a click.

And another one.

And yet another one.

Watching the scene almost out of his mind, Gordon found the crowbar in his hands. What the hell was it doing there? He didn't need it, so he commanded to put it back. But nothing happened.

He was about to try and put it down physically, when he realized he was moving. Slowly, very slowly, but definitely moving towards the creature, who was now being kicked by the security guard, although with nearly no result. His vision was blurred as he approached the thing. He thought he saw the guard say something, but he couldn't hear it. He couldn't hear anything at all.

In front of him the crowbar was being slowly raised by his out-of-control arms, and then lowered rapidly on the thing's head. Then again, and again, and again. Faster, faster, and even faster.

Until his perception of time returned to normal, and a headless monster was lying in a puddle of disgusting yellowish goo, some of which was splattered on the guard, on his suit, and on the crowbar.

"I... Uh... Woah... A-a-and I thought you couldn't hit a fly if your life depended on it..."

Gordon was breathing like an exhaust engine as his sight bounced from the body to the crowbar, as another man, dressed in the standard lab coat, entered from the left.

"Well, don't just stand there, let's help your friend. There's a lot we need to discuss."

*

Nothing around. And no one.

Only rubble, devastation, and the alarm sounding.

"Open your eyes! Come on, wake up!"

Was there a voice? No. There was only...

*

"... Impossible. Ventilation is separate in each sector."

Reines was badly hurt; the monster's punch was much stronger than it seemed: his right arm was now almost unusable and there were contusions all over his chest. But he was going to recover, his arm and wounds bandaged by one of the few survivors in the front desk section.

Because, creatures apart, the damage had extended even that far. Gordon tried to guess what could have happened, but he found no logical reason - apart from the one that saw Etherthel capable of creating a resonance cascade.

But that was out of question; Etherthel had been analyzed before, and no resonance cascade had ever formed. Which left the question unanswered

"Try crossreference with the sewers then. There's got to be a way!"

He had met the survivors; there were only five: captain Mason the desk guard, lieutenant Jameson the front desk guard, Doctor Dearth and Doctor Tadic from Material Monitoring, which was the first thing from the entrance, and Doctor Anderson, who had come from sector D offices on a commission.

They were already trying to find any other survivor, but they had met the creature - whatever that were - just as Gordon and Reines did, giving them much more pressing matters. Once their problem had been taken care of by Gordon, and Reines was safe, they had split again and tried to find any more survivors.

"Hmmm... But yes! That's the way, with all the things going on I was almost forgetting!"

There were no more. For as far as they could go, which wasn't far since this part of the sector was mostly made up of solid concrete which after the accidents had crumbled, causing many corridors to become impassable without heavy machinery aiding the rubble removal, and also, most of the deaths.

Over thirty people had lost their lives in the accident, including the six down in the still inaccessible test chamber. The changing room had been transformed into a morgue, with each of the bodies identified, if possible, and put in a decent posture, again if possible, for the funerals which would take place inevitably in a few days.

"Damn my distraction... Let me see the sewer map!"

But, as much as they wanted, it wasn't over yet. They were still stranded down there. The train track was completely out of order; and even if it wasn't, the small metal bridge that connected the front door to the train itself had fallen down, and it was a fifty meters fall if one couldn't do the fifteen meters jump - which was obviously impossible.

With nearly all the useful equipment broken beyond repair or simply malfunctioning, they could not contact the rest of the facility.

And everybody knew that each sector is kept as strictly separated from each other as possible, to prevent people from knowing more than they were supposed to and all those paranoia things in effort inside every top-priority classified installation.

Regular contact with each section was maintained by the supervisors, of course. But an emergency plan required a sector to never answer radio calls for over 24 hours. And with all the pranks being made between radio operators, it was probable that it would be well over two days before any kind of expedition would be mounted.

Which meant, in a few words, that they were doomed unless they could find any kind of link to another sector, because while they could survive for say 12 hours, they simply had not the supplies or the food - and especially water - to sustain more.

"Not here... Not here... No, it's not here. But there must be another map..."

So far they had tried to cross-reference sector D with sector C; since the former was but the office section of the Anomalous Materials lab, they weren't particularly separated.

But they still had to find a way to get there. So far, nothing; the only route on foote was blocked, and with the train offline, their hopes were disintegrating by the moment...

"Ah, yes! Here it is!"

Anderson, being from sector D, knew it much better than the others. And he had just given the only hope they had thus far...

"If memory doesn't fail me, this is a maintenance elevator that goes from the sewers to the maintenance shed in sector D. From there, we can access the office complex!"

"And that would mean... going down in the sewers?" Gordon didn't exactly like the idea.

"Sorry, Gordon. If you really don't want to, well, I think we can..."

"No, no, nothing like that, Jack. I volunteered, and I'm going even if it was through hell. I'm not going to leave you down here. I just wanted to know... Where's the access port?"

"Hmmm... Good question; let's check"

"No need to." Doctor Dearth interrupted the dialogue. "It's in the restrooms back in the... morgue."

"Well, we're all set, aren't we? I'd better get going as soon as it is possible. Can you print the maps?"

"`Course, we can Gordon." Andreas pressed a few buttons, and out of a slit just below the monitor slowly came out three sheets of paper.

"Wait a second... Print the ventilation schematics also. We don't know what shape sector D is in and we'd better not leave any detail behind."

Another button pressed, and another sheet of paper came out. Gordon picked up all four, then, silently, he made way towards the changing room, the group of six following.

Trying not to look at all the bodies there, he entered the restrooms and immediately spotted the hatch. It was hidden behind a closet, or rather, it had been hidden behind a closet, because with the earthquakes it had fallen down, breaking the toilets and setting a thin layer of water on the floor - layer that was already diminishing, because flowing water had been cut some time ago.

Gordon pushed away the closet, and pulled out his still dirty crowbar; he shook to try and clean it a bit, but to no avail; he resigned and forced the hatch open.

The group was silent behind him. Then, Mason moved forward and handed him a gun with two spare clips.

"You'll need these, Gordon. I don't know what those creatures are, but who knows what's down there?"

"I... You're right, Andreas. Goodbye, guys."

"Goodbye, Gordon."

"`Bye!"

"Goodbye? You mean `see you later'!"

"That's right. See you later!"

"Good luck, Gordon!"

Good luck. Strange thing to hear from a scientist like Doctor Tadic. Gordon turned to enter the hatch, but was stopped by Anderson again.

"Oh, and Gordon! I almost forgot, again... damn memory... If you can't get an outside line from sector D, get to the surface! There's an elevator in the warehouse section that will take you up there. You'll surely be able to contact someone from there. See you later, again!"

Gordon turned again, and this time didn't stop, as he heard the hatch get shut behind him, his suit's breastlight soon becoming the only source of light in the small, dank corridor. He began moving; the sooner he got out of there, the sooner this nightmare would be over.

Yet, apart from the cause of this mess, only two questions remained:

What was the creature that attacked them before?

And more especially, where had it come from?

With no answer in his hands, Gordon continued down the corridor, hoping to be alone in this place...

*

Death had not come. That meant he had another chance.

Plan B was indeed good. Much better than plan A - but also much, much more risky because it required capturing one of the most dangerous of their enemies' agents, a GRS.

And a `virgin' one, too.

The most dangerous GRS, as the most dangerous men, was the unpredictable one. And a `virgin' GRS was undoubtedly unpredictable.

D stood, and began the preparations by keying his brand-new radio.

"Hot Dog to Score Six." He paused a bit. That was an heavy order to issue. But it was required. "Hot Dog to Score Six. Begin shock procedure nine-nine codeword six-one-oh-six. Repeat, Score Six: shock procedure nine-nine, codeword six-one-oh-six. Over."

Several "Yes SIR!" overlapped over D's radio.

It wouldn't be long before they were in position...

*

Gordon had been walking in the dark, smelly, cramped maze of tunnels and pipes that formed the sewer system maintenance part for less than a dozen minutes; but time didn't help him sort out his thoughts.

Thoughts about the alleged resonance cascade; thoughts about the creature; thoughts, especially, about the gun he was wielding almost reverentially in his hand.

As for every useful tool or potential weapon, the suit had recognized the gun, set up a pocket and prepared the ammo storage unit, which allowed him to carry just one physical clip around, and refilling it almost instantly by reinserting it in the corresponding hole in his belt.

Another one of the marvelous features of the HEV, he remembered thinking three months ago during training. He briefly wondered how his trainer was doing at this time, but he dismissed the thought as he got back to more pressing matters.

What he was holding was an handy and accurate Glock 23. Marketed first in 1982, and selected as sidearm of choice for the FBI in 1997, the Glock 23 was a weapon of fairly advanced conception for the time, easy to disassemble being composed of 31 parts plus the clip.

It used standard 9mm Parabellum rounds, of which Gordon had about thirty in his storage unit.

The problem was, how did he know all that? He had never ever held a gun in his hand before HEV training, which required basic weapon handling.

In fact, he thought as the HEV indicated to turn at the next corner, he didn't even know that guns could be disassembled, as he couldn't even guess an use for that.

*BEEP* *BEEP* "Warning: Hostile entity detected within thirty meters. Entity signature matching hostile unknown biological entity. Extreme prejudice advised."

On the left side appeared a rotating sketch of the monster he had met less than half an hour before.

Gordon was briefly surprised that the suit had actually recognized the threat: must have been yet another feature of the suit. But he had no time to find out more; just in front of him appeared another of those horrors. It was eerily similar to the last one, except it was slightly taller and a bit more muscly - not surprising, even monsters can't be identical one to the other.

Before Gordon could even begin to think about what to do, his gun was trained on the creature's head the entire clip was emptied against it.

The creature staggered; then went down and stayed down, seventeen bullet holes in its yellow head.

He looked yet again at the monster, then at his weapon, as he found himself reloading it, his arms completely oblivious to his commands.

After it had been returned to its pocket, he could move his arms normally again.

Just like nothing had happened.

Gordon watched the creature silently. Then he sat down on the floor, and watched the ceiling, shaking his head slowly.

So many strange things were happening. And not just the resonance cascade and all this disaster. Not even the monsters.

It was a different thing.

A feeling.

A strange feeling.

An impossible feeling.

Or rather, an impossible lack of feeling.

He stared blankly at the motionless body. It was dead.

"My God, dead!"

Even his voice was cold and emotionless, as he was. And that was the problem. He was emotionless. But he had narrowly escaped death! And more than once! He should be afraid, afraid as he was when he was younger, afraid of death. Afraid of refusal. Even afraid of the dark, unless he was in his room and in his bed!

Instead, he was cold. And emotionless. And... and uninterested. He had already noticed that before, but didn't give it that much of attention; he thought that his complete lack of interest in vivisectioning the monster, which was what the few survivors did just before trying to find a way out, was due to his lack of stomach. Instead, he remembered, it wasn't just that. It was something different. Something strange. Something... unnatural.

Fact was, he didn't feel sorry for the creature. Actually, he didn't even remember how he had killed it, as he had killed its `brother' before. He had just done it.

He tried to rationalize. He was a scientist; it was not his duty to despair in front of seemingly illogical facts, but to prove the scientifical reasons behind them.

First option: his suit was aiding him.

No, absolutely impossible. All the suits were identical - and his weapon proficiency score back in training proved that; it was the lowest accetable, and he still thought his trainer somehow cheated on it to let him pass.

Second option: he suffered from some kind of `split personality' problem.

The most difficult to accept, both emotionally and scientifically. But it was undoubtedly the closest thing to truth.

It was really like part of him was under the influence of a completely different being. A being that could control his feelings, his perceptions. His body.

A being that wasn't fond of science, that wasn't curious about the great mysteries of the world and of the universe.

It was a being that cared only about killing. And that knew very well how to do just that.

He moved his stare from the ceiling to his hands. For a long moment, he sincerely expected them to have changed - but even if they really had, he couldn't have see them under the suit's black and orange gloves.

He tried to put his head into his hands, the reactive forcefield actually preventing contact of the gloves with his face; and remained thoughtless for a few minutes.

Finally, he realized he had began to sigh. The suit was trying to wipe his tears before they could corrupt his HUD too much.

He slowly regained his composure, still sighing, and checked back at his map. It was useless, and he knew, as the suit had already plotted the best course through the place, plus as many alternate routes as it could find.

But he noticed that on the HUD had appeared a phrase:

"Why does a robot always take the long route? To avoid short circuits!"

Gordon chuckled. Then he laughed hard; but not because it was fun.

He laughed because the suit's software had found out that he was sad, and was trying to cheer him up - by telling stupid jokes.

He stood again, resolving to have a nice and long talk with the suit software's programmer, and, stepping carefully over the body, set off through the dark tunnels, his breastlight once again the only source of light.

*

"Sir? I must respectfully object to this decisssion. It's unnecessarily risky, and..."

D was serious, too serious. Usually he would have been quite pissed off by G's comments; but he was in no mood for outbursts. He had to keep composed, for it was the only way to succeed in the delicate operation.

"I know G. I know. But you know that we don't have any more possibilities. This is our last chance."

`YOUR last chance', G thought while replaying the whole plan in his mind.

There was something that didn't work in this plan, he felt it.

But the Lord be damned if he could focus it.

*

*BEEEEEP* "Warning: breastlight power below 5 percent. Estimated battery life: two minutes before recharge necessary."

The light was charged by a dynamo, but to be remain charged it required him to move faster than he was right now. He turned it off, though; he was about to enter the sewage control section of the sewers - beyond which lay the Sector D maintenance elevator - and already he could see light coming round the next corner.

The chamber looked like some kind of flow control room, with a chainlink bridge suspended five or six meters above a current of bubbling, slow-flowing unpleasantness. Most of the light in the room was coming from an overhead neon lamp, but the apparatus set about midway through the bridge was also lit in a bright green light.

He stepped forward, the suit's boots clanking noisily on the thick, steel net of the twenty meters long bridge, the noise amplified and echoed by the hollow steel structure forming the room.

Behind him, a loud thunk!

Gordon turned quickly, his gun appearing almost magically in his hands.

Nothing was there, and the gun returned to its pocket.

He still felt uncomfortable with what he ended up of calling his evil part; but he figured that it didn't have anything to gain by getting Gordon killed - and that it would keep him protected.

Or at least, that was what he hoped.

He turned, facing again the middle of the bridge and began crossing it.

He was about two meters from the apparatus when he noticed that the green light wasn't coming really from it, but from some kind of electrical fuzz near it.

Wondering if it was damaged, he approached it: the electrical activity was increasing visibly; small green bolts were flowing through the air from a point about ten centimeters above his eye level.

Gordon reached out, and the activity frenzied; he was knocked to the floor an instant later, the suit lamenting.

*BEEP* *BEEP* "Warning: severe electrical shock received. Gyroscopes malfunction - readjustment in progress." *BOOP* *BOOP* "Reactive shielding at ninety percent. Gyroscopes readjustment successful. Damage negligible."

Wow! It must have been quite a strong electrical field to drop his shields' power by ten percent. Gordon lifted himself again and watched, puzzled, as the beams continued to flow freely, only to find some kind of pattern in the air; they had grown in number and speed over the last few seconds, until they were describing a small green sphere, crackling and fuzzing in the middle of the air.

The sphere exploded, and Gordon's sight was once again blackness.

*

"Y-y-yes, yes... Yes. It could be done... It CAN be done! But... but it will be risky!"

The scientist's voice was shaky, but sure; science prevailed the gun trained on his head.

"Correct answer, fella. I like reasonable people."

"Alpha leader, quit mouthing around and get your people back to sector D. And I mean now."

D's voice was calm, a menacing type of calm.

The team Alpha element leader turned, saluted and went quickly outside to the Lambda courtyard.

"OK, guys! You know the orders, let's do it. All aboard!"

The sound of thirty pairs of boots clanking on the metallic surface was covered by the roaring of a F-16 flying CAP over the site.

The thirty men had neatly split in two groups and were climbing aboard the two Chinooks, both inbound to sector D.

He boarded the second one, as his mind chanting a victory song. He needed luck - because they had failed last time. And because it was to be their first, and last time.

`Four years ago will have been just a bad dream as soon as we finish here. This time, we won't fail!'

*

Gordon's sight returned to normal after the brief blinding, and in front of him was a very short, flat, almost deformed two legged being.

He couldn't make head or tail of it, literally; it could have been watching him - if it could at all, that is - as it might have been turned to the other side. Whatever of the two, it turned, showing the multitentacled part over the singletentacled one.

*BEEP* *BEEP* "Warning: unknown biological entity detected within thirty meters. Entity signature not matched. Caution advised."

The being seemed almost to look at Gordon, although he couldn't see its eyes; then it began growling feebly, almost like a dog.

Gordon tried to approach the creature; its growling increased in tone. The thing was somewhat cute, and he hoped for once that this one wouldn't try to kill him.

Then he found his gun in his hand, trained on the being, an instant before it attacked.

Gordon sidestepped the being's jump, which ended with a noisy thud on the catwalk; Gordon rolled, turned, and began firing at the centre of the tentacles the instant the creature had recovered and turned again to attack.

He was about at half clip when the creature retreated. He stopped firing, not sure if it was his own choice or not; but no sooner he had done this that the being had run across a few meters, it turned once more, then it spat.

The green glob described an arc through the air, hitting the spot Gordon had resided mere seconds before he had raised and moved. The being charged for another spit, but was stopped cold as Gordon discharged the rest of the clip in the being's mouth.

The creature weaved, growled feebly like a hurt puppy, then flattened on the ground, motionless.

Gordon reloaded, and the gun returned to its place.

It had happened again. An unknown threat had appeared, and he had dispatched of it without even knowing what he was actually doing. And after the fight, the coldness and the utter lack of interest on the body.

But this time, Gordon wanted to go against his feelings. he approached the creature, with his complete - and unnatural - disinterest making him want to turn around and go away, and began to turn it over.

`No genital organs', he thought just before the bottom of the creature was in view `nor exposed body parts'. Just solid skin, and two small, compact, clawed legs.

How he knew those things, though, was completely beyond him.

He stood, the unnatural disinterest getting at last the upper hand; he was trying to rummage through his mind to find more about this creature... It was a nearly inexplicable sensation, to be curious about something already known.

The conflicting thoughts almost driving him crazy, he quit, turned and made way to the other side of the room.

He stepped just beyond the control terminal, and felt the floor beginning to give way under his feet. Stepping back, he crouched to examine closely the grating; the spot where the creature's spit had landed after missing him was completely melted, and the hole was slowly enlarging as the acid spread through the iron.

He stood, again unnaturally uninterested by these facts, and inhaled deeply, the fetid smell finding new ways inside his lungs.

He cursed himself for his last action, and quickly exited the room on the opposite side to where he had entered: the service elevator had to be in the next room.

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