There was no time to think。 Norman took three steps; jumped; and pulled himself through the open hatch into DH…7。
He slammed the hatch door down behind him but the flat; spade…like tentacle was already reaching in。 He pinned the tentacle in the partially closed hatch; but the tentacle didnt withdraw。 It was incredibly strong and muscular; writhing as he watched; the suckers like small puckered mouths opening and closing。 Norman stomped down on the hatch; trying to force the tentacle to withdraw。 With a muscular flip; the hatch flew open; knocking him backward; and the tentacle reached up into the habitat。 He smelled the strong odor of ammonium。
Norman fled; climbing higher into the cylinder。 The second tentacle appeared; splashing up through the hatch。 The two tentacles swung in circles beneath him; searching。 He came to a porthole and looked out; saw the great body of the animal; the huge round staring eye。 He clambered higher; getting away from the tentacles。 Most of the cylinder seemed to be given over to storage; it was crammed with equipment; ''242'' boxes; tanks。 Many of the boxes were bright red with stencils: 〃CAUTION NO SMOKING NO ELECTRONICS TEVAC EXPLOSIVES。〃 There were a hell of a lot of explosives in here; he thought; stumbling upward。
The tentacles rose higher behind him。 Somewhere; in a detached; logical part of his brain; he thought: The cylinder is only forty feet high; and the tentacles are at least forty feet long。 There will be no place for me to hide。
He stumbled; banged his knee; kept going。 He heard the slap of the tentacles as they struck the walls; swung upward toward him。
A weapon; he thought。 I have to find a weapon。
He came to the small galley; metal counter; some pots and pans。 He pulled the drawers open hastily; looking for a knife。 He could find only a small paring knife; threw it away in disgust。 He heard the tentacles ing closer。 The next moment he was knocked down; his helmet banging on the deck。 Norman scrambled to his feet; dodged the tentacle; moved up the cylinder。
A munications section: radio set; puter; a couple of monitors。 The tentacles were right behind him; slithering up like nightmarish vines。 His eyes burned from the ammonia fumes。
He came to the bunks; a narrow space near the top of the cylinder。
No place to hide; he thought。 No weapons; and no place to hide。
The tentacles reached the top of the cylinder; slapped against the upper curved surface; swung sideways。 In a moment they would have him。 He grabbed the mattress from one bunk; held it up as flimsy protection。 The two tentacles were swinging erratically around him。 He dodged the first。
And then with a whump the second tentacle coiled around him; holding both him and the mattress in a cold; slimy grip。 He felt a sickening slow squeeze; the dozens of suckers gripping his body; cutting into his skin。 He moaned in horror。 The second tentacle swung back to grip him along with the first。 He was trapped in a vise。
Oh God; he thought。
''243'' The tentacles swung away from the wall; lifting him high in the air; into the middle of the cylinder。 This is it; he thought; but in the next moment he felt his body sliding downward past the mattress; and he slipped through the grip and fell through the air。 He grabbed the tentacles for support; sliding down the giant evil…smelling vines; and then he crashed down onto the deck near the galley; his head banging on the metal deck。 He rolled onto his back。
He saw the two tentacles above; gripping the mattress; squeezing it; twisting it。 Did the squid realize what had happened; that he had gotten free?
Norman looked around desperately。 A weapon; a weapon。 This was a Navy habitat。 There must be a weapon somewhere。
The tentacles tore the mattress apart。 Shreds of white padding drifted down through the cylinder。 The tentacles released the mattress; the big pieces falling。 Then the tentacles started swinging around the habitat again。
Searching。
It knows; he thought。 It knows I have gotten away; and that I am still in here somewhere。 It is hunting me。
But how did it know?
Norman ducked behind the galley as one of the flat tentacles came crashing through the pots and pans; sweeping around; feeling for him。 Norman scrambled back; ing up against a large potted plant。 The tentacle was still searching; moving restlessly across the floor; banging the pans。 Norman pushed the plant forward; and the tentacle gripped it; uprooted it easily; sweeping it away into the air。
The distraction allowed Norman to scramble forward。 A weapon; he thought。 A weapon。
He looked down to where the mattress had fallen; and he saw; lining the wall near the bottom hatch; a series of silver vertical bars。 Spear guns! Somehow he had missed them on the way up。 Each spear gun was tipped in a fat bulb like a hand grenade。 Explosive tips? He started to climb down。
The tentacles were sliding down; too; following him。 How did the squid know where he was? And then; as he passed a ''244'' porthole; he saw the eye outside and he thought; He can see me; for Gods sake。
Stay away from the portholes。
Not thinking clearly。 Everything happening fast。 Crawling down past the explosive crates in the storage hold; thinking; I better not miss in here; and he landed with a clang on the airlock deck。
The arms were slithering down; moving down the cylinder toward him。 He tugged at one of the spear guns。 It was strapped to the wall with a rubber cord。 Norman pulled at it; tried to release it。 The tentacles drew closer。 He yanked at the rubber; but it wouldnt release。 What was wrong with these snaps?
The tentacles were closer。 ing down swiftly。
Then he realized the cords had safety catches: you had to pull the guns sideways; not out。 He did; the rubber popped free。 The spear gun was in his hand。 He turned; and the tentacle knocked him down。 He flipped onto his back and saw the great flat suckered palm of the tentacle ing straight down on him; and the tentacle wrapped over his helmet; everything was black; and he fired。
There was tremendous pain in his chest and abdomen。 For a horrified moment he thought he had shot himself。 Then he gasped and he realized it was just the concussion; his chest was burning; but the squid released him。