Read Online The Icerigger Trilogy: Icerigger, Mission to Moulokin, and The Deluge Drivers by Alan Dean Foster - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Alan Dean Foster
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dangerously bent door, a monstrous scratching and pawing. The door took another blow. This time the top, hinge snapped off like plastic and the upper half of the metal was folded inward. Ethan was lying on his back and had a fine view through the new opening.
What he saw was a big rectangular head. Two horrible red eyes, like wild lanterns, stared straight at him. A mouth not quite as big as an earth-mover filled with what looked like a couple of thousand long, needle-like teeth gaped open. The teeth grew in all directions, like a jumble of jackstraws.
It either saw him or scented him. The huge skull plunged downward. It pushed, and jammed halfway into the fresh opening. He could have reached up and touched one of those gnarled fangs. It was close enough for him to smell its breath—cloves and old lemon.
Metal groaned in protest as the thing twisted and pushed against the doubled door like a starving dog, moaning wantonly. Off to one side he saw September edging right up next to the door. He jumped across, threw something in the monster’s searchlight eyes, and ducked just as the steam-shovel head snapped at him. The teeth clashed like a gong just above flying white hair.
It blinked, and there was the most awful bellowing scream imaginable. The head disappeared with astounding speed. As it thrashed about in the ruined hull it shook the entire boat. Ethan was hard-pressed to keep from being tumbled into the fire.
Then, all at once, it was quiet again.
September was trying to force the strained door back into place. The weakened bracing gave a little, but a gaping hole remained. He picked up a large chunk of torn couch padding and stuffed it into the gap, jamming it down into the cracks on either side. It stayed.
“Somebody open some coffee. None of us are going back to sleep right away anyhow, I think.” September shoved a great fist down into the padding. “I could use a mug. Woe that it’s but the juice of the brown bean and not something stronger.”
“Lord!” panted Williams. It was the first time Ethan had seen the schoolteacher excited about anything. But only a robot could sit through what they’d just experienced without missing a heartbeat or two. “What was it?”
Surprisingly, Ethan found himself answering, after the first choke on his coffee.
“The section on fauna comes back to me now. That was a nocturnal carnivore. The natives consider it quite dangerous …”
“Do tell,” commented September. He was still wrestling with the padding and the door. “No single critter has a right to that many teeth … Damn this wind!”
“It’s called a Droom,” Ethan added, turning. Then he noticed that Colette was still sitting close to her father … and damned if she wasn’t shivering a little. She looked frightened, too. Of course she would be—anyone would be—but it was so unlike her.
She noticed his gaze. Defiantly, she sat straight and let the old man’s arms slip away. He didn’t protest. She tried to turn that overwhelming glare on him but it wasn’t there this time, and she looked away awkwardly.
“I suppose you think I was frightened of that thing.”
“Well, that’s okay,” began Ethan. “Nothing to be ash—”
“Well I wasn’t!” she shouted. Then she grew quiet again. “It’s just … I’m not afraid of anything real, anything tangible. But since I was small, I’ve … I’ve always been afraid of the dark.”
“It’s her mother, you see—” du Kane started to explain, but she cut him off.
“Be quiet, father … and get some sleep. I’ve got thinking to do.”
Ethan rolled over and stared at a place on the floor that sent the firelight back into his eyes. He thought, too.
The wind had dropped some but still blew steadily from the west. The sun had been up for a couple of hours already, though Ethan thought anything that put out so little decent heat unworthy of the name. He took his own good time getting up. After all, there was no great hurry. His
What he saw was a big rectangular head. Two horrible red eyes, like wild lanterns, stared straight at him. A mouth not quite as big as an earth-mover filled with what looked like a couple of thousand long, needle-like teeth gaped open. The teeth grew in all directions, like a jumble of jackstraws.
It either saw him or scented him. The huge skull plunged downward. It pushed, and jammed halfway into the fresh opening. He could have reached up and touched one of those gnarled fangs. It was close enough for him to smell its breath—cloves and old lemon.
Metal groaned in protest as the thing twisted and pushed against the doubled door like a starving dog, moaning wantonly. Off to one side he saw September edging right up next to the door. He jumped across, threw something in the monster’s searchlight eyes, and ducked just as the steam-shovel head snapped at him. The teeth clashed like a gong just above flying white hair.
It blinked, and there was the most awful bellowing scream imaginable. The head disappeared with astounding speed. As it thrashed about in the ruined hull it shook the entire boat. Ethan was hard-pressed to keep from being tumbled into the fire.
Then, all at once, it was quiet again.
September was trying to force the strained door back into place. The weakened bracing gave a little, but a gaping hole remained. He picked up a large chunk of torn couch padding and stuffed it into the gap, jamming it down into the cracks on either side. It stayed.
“Somebody open some coffee. None of us are going back to sleep right away anyhow, I think.” September shoved a great fist down into the padding. “I could use a mug. Woe that it’s but the juice of the brown bean and not something stronger.”
“Lord!” panted Williams. It was the first time Ethan had seen the schoolteacher excited about anything. But only a robot could sit through what they’d just experienced without missing a heartbeat or two. “What was it?”
Surprisingly, Ethan found himself answering, after the first choke on his coffee.
“The section on fauna comes back to me now. That was a nocturnal carnivore. The natives consider it quite dangerous …”
“Do tell,” commented September. He was still wrestling with the padding and the door. “No single critter has a right to that many teeth … Damn this wind!”
“It’s called a Droom,” Ethan added, turning. Then he noticed that Colette was still sitting close to her father … and damned if she wasn’t shivering a little. She looked frightened, too. Of course she would be—anyone would be—but it was so unlike her.
She noticed his gaze. Defiantly, she sat straight and let the old man’s arms slip away. He didn’t protest. She tried to turn that overwhelming glare on him but it wasn’t there this time, and she looked away awkwardly.
“I suppose you think I was frightened of that thing.”
“Well, that’s okay,” began Ethan. “Nothing to be ash—”
“Well I wasn’t!” she shouted. Then she grew quiet again. “It’s just … I’m not afraid of anything real, anything tangible. But since I was small, I’ve … I’ve always been afraid of the dark.”
“It’s her mother, you see—” du Kane started to explain, but she cut him off.
“Be quiet, father … and get some sleep. I’ve got thinking to do.”
Ethan rolled over and stared at a place on the floor that sent the firelight back into his eyes. He thought, too.
The wind had dropped some but still blew steadily from the west. The sun had been up for a couple of hours already, though Ethan thought anything that put out so little decent heat unworthy of the name. He took his own good time getting up. After all, there was no great hurry. His
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