SWNOVELS Chapter In Amber Preserved
Most people would have panicked after being trapped in the rubble of a collapsed building for an extended period of time, or when they realized that they could no longer feel their legs. But Bertrand Sallinger was not most people. He was, in all likelihood, the most advanced and experienced trauma specialist to have ever worked in his field. As a result he knew that rescue operations to places as deep as he was underground took many hours to prepare for. Sonar readings would be taken and blueprints examined, then an unmanned robot would come in first to locate him. Only after those steps were taken would rescuers make a swift but careful beeline for his location. They had to know that coming down to retrieve him wouldn’t trigger a structure collapse. But it had been long enough for the preparation to be completed. So any minute now he expected to see some sort of camera faced spiderbot crawling out of the fissure in the ceiling.
He was also not greatly concerned about the loss of feeling in his legs, knowing that it was common for the conditions he was under. That much pressure over several hours would lower circulation and pinch off nerves. He had also verified that he could still move his legs by wiggling his feet and listening for the scraping of his shoes. So he knew he was in for one serious case of pins and needles after they pulled him out, but there shouldn’t be any lasting effects.
Now on the other hand he was very concerned about was the chrysalis. Although the remaining spidercrabs seemed to have died off, a great deal of activity was still seemed to be happening inside. He had no idea what could be going on, but he didn’t need a physician’s powers of observation to be relatively certain that it wasn’t good. One of the emergency lights had fallen on the other side of the translucent blue cocoon, and what he could see was a strange, twisting interior that looked nothing like the womb Jessica had developed in.
Then over the last hour or so, the surface had slowly darkened, and a weird pulsing had begun. Eventually a seam that ran vertically along its nearest surface split, and blue gel began to flow out. This created a widening pool that was growing closer, and in a matter of minutes could reach where he was. He remembered what happened to the QSLAM earlier and feared it might devour him just as eagerly. But the flow had stopped spreading after a while and he was relieved to see it begin to thicken and congeal. The gel continued to pour from the chrysalis, but this new and more viscous material simply piled on top of the pool for a few minutes and stopped.
He continued to watch for signs of movement, but the massive alien organ seemed to have spent itself and so he relaxed. What he had seen was probably just some sort of purge and shutdown process. Then the color seemed to drain out of it and it withered into a shriveled grey remnant of itself. The room grew very quiet after that and the pile of expelled gel started to harden from exposure to the air. So he turned his head to a more comfortable position and allowed exhaustion to take him into a fitful sleep.
Slowly, Sallinger dragged himself up out of a sleep that felt more like a stupor. The struggle made him feel like he was underwater and trying to break through to a surface that remained frustratingly out of reach. But he eventually managed to pry his sleep-gummed eyes open a little and then just tried to breathe and get his bearings.
Then there was a sound that made his blood run cold. It was wet, and thick, and underneath of it he could hear faint gurgles like someone struggling to breath. It took everything he had to lift his head and wince at the stiffness in his neck as he forced it to turn so he could look back.
The first thing he noticed was that his left hand was covered in blue gel.
With mounting horror, he realized that it had also flowed up under his sleeve, and how far down his body the pulsating tentacle had traveled he couldn’t tell. There was no pain, or any other sensation for that matter, but he could see tiny amounts of fluid moving slowly backwards through the appendage. Groggily, he followed its path until he found the source of the sound and saw something even more incredible than Jessica’s transformation.
The leaked gel was taking form.
Like a person crawling from a pool of tar, a figure was extruding upwards from the mass. It had lurched up onto its hands and knees, and was struggling to bring the rest of itself out. It was extremely slight Its hair hung down in a thick wet curtain to obscure its face, but he could see one delicate and perfectly formed ear on the side of its head surrounded by a quickly spreading thicket of blonde curls. Then the naked form braced itself and then he heard the distinct sound of a deep breath being drawn. Then it started to groan in an obviously horrific effort as the left arm that currently terminated slightly above the elbow pulled back from the mass, dragging a thick, ropy blob with it. Once this was free the figure let out a low moan and Sallinger watched with a horrified amazement as the thick globule slowly coalesced into bone, sinew, muscle and skin. For a moment the figure rested there and panted, but then it drew itself up and repeated the process with the other arm. As it did, Sallinger felt a strange releasing sensation and the tendril of gel that had slithered down his sleeve retracted.
As it left, he felt the fog that had come over him lift and his clinically astute mind sharpen. Then he realized that he may only have moments before he would be at the mercy of this bizarre entity, so he tried to see if the wreckage pinning him to the floor had shifted. But if anything it was now putting even greater pressure on his lower body. Enough that he might be in danger of some serious loss of blood flow.
Oddly… this should have driven his already mounting fear into a fit of real terror, but instead the ludicrousness of his situation caused a semi-hysterical giggle to squeeze out from between his teeth. First he was diagnosed with ALS, a horrifying death sentence in and of itself. Then his last patient, an eleven-year-old girl no less, seized control of a radically experimental treatment and transformed herself into the world’s first bionic tween badass. Then he was shot at by missiles or something and found himself trapped a hundred feet underground with a half dead techno-uterus run amuck. Now for the grand finale he was waiting for a modern day tar baby to pull itself free of a pile of nanite goo and come over to eat his face. The only things missing from the ridiculousness of this situation were a cartoon soundtrack, a tablecloth, and a salt shaker.
As he debated whether to laugh or cry over this he suddenly realized there was an upside to his fate… When he compared it to the slow and horrible death ALS would almost certainly bring, the idea of having some demented techno-tar baby eat his face like thanksgiving ham sounded like a vacation.
Then he saw the dripping blue figure pull its final limb from the micronite mass and closed his eyes as he let his morbid giggle fit run free. At least he could keep his sense of humor until he had to start screaming.
In the nearby darkness he could hear it slowly crawling closer to him, fumbling like a newborn with inexperienced limbs. It drew close enough after a moment that he felt a drip of gel fall on his forehead and the warmth of breath on his face. The creature then gagged and took a horridly deep and ragged breath before it hurled up a volume of gel that splattered onto the cement next to him. Then there was coughing, followed by more retching, and then a minute or two of rapid panting before it finally seemed to get itself in order to partake in its inaugural facial repast. The breathing grew closer and closer until it was so close that the warmth of its body could be felt radiating onto his skin.
After several silent seconds ticked by he realized that he could withstand the horrible waiting no more and opened his eyes. But what he saw was the last thing he ever expected…
“Amber?”