story. “As you can imagine, there were bits and pieces of you all over the annex—
Gallo let off a hail of gunfire, all the time pushing Millicent towards the exit. The tentacle turned its attention towards her.
“Hit the green button. This is the emergency exit; pray to Looselea it still works,” she yelled at Millicent.
Millicent found the button and hit it with numb fingers. Sangfroid’s image filled her mind with horror. She couldn’t speak, couldn’t think. The door slid open soundlessly. She and Gallo fell into the corridor and Gallo slammed the door closed to gain them temporary respite from the monster on the other side.
“Now run. We’ve got to reach Kappa before the Amoebas self-destructs,” Gallo ordered and took off down the corridor. Millicent tried to run with her, but her skirts caught at her heels and her legs were uncoordinated. She felt dizzy, as if her head was bloodless with shock. Sangfroid was dead. She was gone. Forever. And Millicent had orchestrated her death. She had refused to obey orders and had delayed their escape. She had done this! She, who shouldn’t even have been there in the first place!
“Hurry up, woman!” Gallo was waiting impatiently a little way ahead. Millicent staggered onwards and Gallo turned once more to lead the way. The cold metal walls around Millicent began to melt and the floor lurched up to meet her. The stale odour of the corridor faded, as did the distant booming warfare. For a moment she thought she was swooning, her knees buckled, and then she wondered if the ship had exploded, making it too late for Kappa.
“I got you.” Gallo’s hand gripped hers “Come on, stay with me.” Millicent sank farther. Her legs refused to move. The inky, bloody stains on Gallo’s uniform became a blur, and the corridor spiralled away from her. Her world was spinning wildly, and then she smelled the warm tweed of her brother’s jacket, and Hubert was calling her…and Hubert was calling her…and—“Hubert!” she screamed and clung to his arms.
“Oh Millicent, Millicent.” He cradled her, tears coursing down his puffy cheeks. “In God’s name, what happened to you? I thought I’d lost you for good.” He was babbling in his distress.
He led her to a settee, though she still needed his support to sit upright. She gazed around her incredulously. She was back in Hubert’s laboratory with its smell of leather, pipe tobacco, and chemicals. Familiar books lined the walls, and Hubert’s no-nonsense desk sat squat and solid by the draped windows. A lamp had been lit and cast a welcoming glow. In the hearth a fire crackled happily. She was home at number five, Christie Mews.
“Get rid of that thing!” She pointed an accusing finger at his time machine.
“Yes. Yes. Anything you say,” he agreed at once. “Oh, Millicent. Here, sit up, dear. Let me get you tea. Or perhaps a sherry?”
“Brandy,” she ordered. “A large one.” She sniffled into the back of her hand. Tears coursed down her cheeks unchecked. Her hair hung around her in tatty wisps, and her dress was torn and covered in oil and dirt…and blood. Sangfroid’s blood! Sobs wracked her. She covered her face with shaking hands and still the tears fell through her fingers. Hubert raced to her side and flung himself down on his knees beside her.
“Oh, my dearest sister. Tell me what has happened. When I came home to find no sign of you, the tea tray abandoned, and the machine running wildly with the gears locked… Why, I nearly went mad! It was only by the gravest good fortune I remembered the original gear setting and was able to re-engage the lever. You came into focus soon after. You were only an outline, like a photographic print taking form, then suddenly you were here, solid and in the physical.” He was wringing his hands, distraught by her appearance and tears. “It was extraordinary. You sort of…oozed back into this world, finally solidifying, but looking like this.” He waved
Gallo let off a hail of gunfire, all the time pushing Millicent towards the exit. The tentacle turned its attention towards her.
“Hit the green button. This is the emergency exit; pray to Looselea it still works,” she yelled at Millicent.
Millicent found the button and hit it with numb fingers. Sangfroid’s image filled her mind with horror. She couldn’t speak, couldn’t think. The door slid open soundlessly. She and Gallo fell into the corridor and Gallo slammed the door closed to gain them temporary respite from the monster on the other side.
“Now run. We’ve got to reach Kappa before the Amoebas self-destructs,” Gallo ordered and took off down the corridor. Millicent tried to run with her, but her skirts caught at her heels and her legs were uncoordinated. She felt dizzy, as if her head was bloodless with shock. Sangfroid was dead. She was gone. Forever. And Millicent had orchestrated her death. She had refused to obey orders and had delayed their escape. She had done this! She, who shouldn’t even have been there in the first place!
“Hurry up, woman!” Gallo was waiting impatiently a little way ahead. Millicent staggered onwards and Gallo turned once more to lead the way. The cold metal walls around Millicent began to melt and the floor lurched up to meet her. The stale odour of the corridor faded, as did the distant booming warfare. For a moment she thought she was swooning, her knees buckled, and then she wondered if the ship had exploded, making it too late for Kappa.
“I got you.” Gallo’s hand gripped hers “Come on, stay with me.” Millicent sank farther. Her legs refused to move. The inky, bloody stains on Gallo’s uniform became a blur, and the corridor spiralled away from her. Her world was spinning wildly, and then she smelled the warm tweed of her brother’s jacket, and Hubert was calling her…and Hubert was calling her…and—“Hubert!” she screamed and clung to his arms.
“Oh Millicent, Millicent.” He cradled her, tears coursing down his puffy cheeks. “In God’s name, what happened to you? I thought I’d lost you for good.” He was babbling in his distress.
He led her to a settee, though she still needed his support to sit upright. She gazed around her incredulously. She was back in Hubert’s laboratory with its smell of leather, pipe tobacco, and chemicals. Familiar books lined the walls, and Hubert’s no-nonsense desk sat squat and solid by the draped windows. A lamp had been lit and cast a welcoming glow. In the hearth a fire crackled happily. She was home at number five, Christie Mews.
“Get rid of that thing!” She pointed an accusing finger at his time machine.
“Yes. Yes. Anything you say,” he agreed at once. “Oh, Millicent. Here, sit up, dear. Let me get you tea. Or perhaps a sherry?”
“Brandy,” she ordered. “A large one.” She sniffled into the back of her hand. Tears coursed down her cheeks unchecked. Her hair hung around her in tatty wisps, and her dress was torn and covered in oil and dirt…and blood. Sangfroid’s blood! Sobs wracked her. She covered her face with shaking hands and still the tears fell through her fingers. Hubert raced to her side and flung himself down on his knees beside her.
“Oh, my dearest sister. Tell me what has happened. When I came home to find no sign of you, the tea tray abandoned, and the machine running wildly with the gears locked… Why, I nearly went mad! It was only by the gravest good fortune I remembered the original gear setting and was able to re-engage the lever. You came into focus soon after. You were only an outline, like a photographic print taking form, then suddenly you were here, solid and in the physical.” He was wringing his hands, distraught by her appearance and tears. “It was extraordinary. You sort of…oozed back into this world, finally solidifying, but looking like this.” He waved
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