The Gastropoda Imperative by Peter Barns (parable of the sower read online txt) 📕

He knew it! They were waiting for the aliens to bring their ship in, just like in the film. He had to get inside and see what was happening. He needed to see one of the aliens, to find out if they were like in his books.

Running back down the steps, Piers worked his way along the sand towards the cave he knew was just around the big rock outcrop on the beach. He’d last been in the cave six months ago with the boatman and a couple of engineers. He often helped the boatman take the staff across to the island, but this time they’d also taken two enormous round crates over with them as well. Two engineers had loaded the crates on the boat, both dressed in light blue overalls with a small yellow flash on the pocket, reading, ‘Arckle Filters’.

Piers had helped the engineers change the big filters, and in the process had discovered the hatch leading into the building off the ducting. That night, after he got back from the island, he went home and thought about what he’d seen.

And now here he was, back on the island, edging his way passed the filters, looking for that hatch. Opening it, Piers stepped through and took out the torch he’d brought along. Moving over to the door, he listened, then pulled it open a crack, listening again. He could hear talking somewhere in the distance, and the soft hum of a fan.

Easing his way out of the room into the dimly lit corridor, he slid the torch into his back pocket. The room he’d exited was at one end of the corridor, at the other end he could just make out a lift button set on the wall. Stopping at each door in turn to listen, Piers moved down the corridor towards the voices. Standing outside the canteen door, he heard two people talking inside.

“I told him that I want the project closed down,” a woman’s voice said.

“After all the money he’s invested, I can’t see him doing that,” a man answered.

“Yes, he tried to pull that guilt trip on me, but I told him I had no intention of carrying on.” The sound of a spoon rattling in a cup covered the next few words. “—sort of threatened him with the papers.”

“You did what?”

“Well I would never do that of course. Think what it would do to my reputation. But I wasn’t going to let him know that was I?”

A whine came from the far end of the corridor and Piers cocked his head, looking towards it. The whine got louder and he realised that the lift was coming. Turning, he ran back along the corridor, sliding to a stop as a door opened further down.

Somebody appeared, still looking back into the room. “I’ll check out the results before we leave tonight,” the woman said.

Piers ducked into the nearest room, pulling the door too behind him. The woman’s footsteps passed by in the direction of the canteen and he stood looking through the sliver of a crack he’d left between the door and the frame. The lift bell pinged and a man in a dark-blue security uniform stepped out into the corridor. He had his hands on his head and was quickly followed by two other men holding guns. They were dressed in black clothes and wore black balaclavas.

Pushing the guard down the corridor the men marched him into the canteen and followed him inside. Piers heard four shots. He gasped, his eyes widening, finding it difficult to breathe in the room’s obnoxious atmosphere.

A door farther down the corridor opened and a man’s voice shouted, “What’s going on?”

Piers heard another shot and looked towards the man who had stepped out into the corridor. His white lab coat had blossomed with red over his heart, and he was staring up the corridor with wide eyes. Looking down at his chest, the man fell to his knees and collapsed on to his side. It was obvious to Piers that he was dead.

Heart pounding Piers eased the door closed, leaning his forehead against it. He was trembling and sweating and could hardly breathe. If they found him, they would kill him. Of that he had no doubt.

Having closed the door, the room was now in complete darkness and Piers didn’t want to turn the light on in case it attracted attention. Shining his torch around the room, he searched for a place to hide. A small wall surrounded a sort of pool of stuff in the middle of the floor. Walking over, he jerked his head away when the smell hit him, nearly gagging. As he watched, the surface of the pool rippled, as though something was swimming around just under the surface.

Crossing to the back of the room, Piers found a tier of shelving on which were enormous glass tanks with metal lids on top of them. Hearing footsteps in the hall, he panicked and threw himself on top of the lowest shelf, easing towards the back of the metal cover. The cover was hot but not unbearably so.

A few moments later the door to the room opened and he heard footsteps enter. They paused, then headed towards the pond. After a brief pause a torch clicked on and a beam of light swept around the room.

Piers pushed himself as far as he could down behind the lid of the tank he was laying on, praying that he wouldn’t be discovered. The man seemed to be examining the tanks on the shelf above him. Piers heard one of the lids move and cringed, worrying at his bottom lip with his teeth.

There was a sudden splash from the pool and Piers watched through the glass as the man swept his torch over towards it. There was a grunt, then the torch switched off and the door closed.

The man had left the room. Piers took a deep breath and close his eyes. He stayed down behind the tank, listening to the men searching the rest of the facility for what seemed like hours, during which he heard another shot, then someone pleading for their life, followed by another shot. Soon after that, the lift doors opened and the lift departed with a whine.

Piers stayed where he was for the next half-hour, too frightened to move, until eventually the cramp in his leg got too much to bear and he tried to get out from behind the tank. Finding himself stuck, he wriggled around, pushing his back against the wall, easing the tank forward. It unexpectedly shifted and he fell right down behind it, stuck between the glass and the wall. There was only one thing he could do now. Using his hands and knees, he jerked it off the shelf, cringing when it hit the floor and shattered.

Climbing off the shelf, Piers hurried over to the door, easing it open. He looked out. Two bodies were laying in the corridor, both unmoving. He stood there for a moment, not sure what to do, wanting to help but not knowing how.

Sensing a movement behind him, Piers turned, glancing over his shoulder, gasping. It was his first sight of an alien and it was even worse than the things he had seen in the films and read about in his books. Its orange body was dripping pieces of vegetation and other matter. The stink was unbelievable. Its mouth opened and a long tongue waved at him. He could clearly see the backward facing teeth laid out in rows along it, starting at the back of its throat, then out along the tongue’s surface, over the end and back along underneath.

The alien leant over the wall of the pit, slivering out of the pool onto the floor with a wet slap. It was enormous. Piers couldn’t tear his gaze away from the alien as he backed down the corridor, one hand held out behind him.

When Piers stumbled on one of the bodies, it dragged him from his terror and he turned, running down the corridor to the Electrical Intake Room, screaming at the top of his voice. The hatch crashed to the floor and he threw himself into the ducting.

Conal looked at the man swimming beside him, thinking how lucky he’d been to get out in one piece.

“I didn’t leave my room for a week,” Piers said. “And when I eventually told my mother what I’d seen on the island, she just shook her head at me, as though I’d been watching too many horror films on TV, and had had a nightmare, like I did when I was a kid.”

Conal turned his attention back to the shore, which was surprisingly close now.

***

A short while later they were close enough to make out the people lined up along the quayside.

Conal stopped swimming and they all floated in the water. Lyra had recovered and was now in the water too, having taken her turn in paddling the lilo ashore.

“Look,” Conal said, “I really don’t want to get caught up with the police just yet.” When Troy went to speak, Conal held up his hand. “No hear me out, Troy. Whoever was on the island, it’s certain that they were looking for the hard drive I took. I’m sure of it. And if I’m right, then Lyra’s mother and aunt, and Willow and her parents are in danger. If we spend time trying to explain what’s happened to the police, even if we get them to believe us, the guys on the island will have time to swim back to the mainland. It would be too late to stop them. I really do believe Lyra’s and Willow’s family are in danger.”

They floated on the waves, holding on to the lilo, each lost in their own thoughts. A shout from the quayside finally brought them out of their reveries.

“Okay,” Lyra said in a firm voice. “I think you might be right. And even if you’re not, it won’t do any harm to go check first, will it?”

“Okay,” said Troy, “let’s get to it then.”

Piers just nodded and they paddled their way parallel to the shore for awhile, leaving the crowd behind them.

Fifteen minutes later they were standing outside Sea View Holdings cottage, surveying the broken front door. Lyra realised that Conal had been right when he’d said they were in danger.

“Auntie! Mum!” she screamed, breaking away from the others and running into the cottage, her eyes widening as she looked around. The downstairs rooms were a wreck.

Troy ran into the cottage behind Lyra, taking her by the shoulders as she looked around, the worry plain on her face for all to see.

“Where are they, Troy?” she whispered. “What’s happened to them?”

Conal ran up the stairs, pushing his way into the bedroom. “Up here,” he shouted down to the others when he heard the banging coming from the cupboard.

Troy and Lyra burst into the bedroom as Conal yanked open the cupboard door. Squatting down, he released the self-locking latch on the trunk and raised the lid. Laying in a foetal position inside the trunk was a woman he guessed to be Lyra’s mother. The resemblance was unmistakable.

“Mum!” Lyra cried, rushing across the room to help Conal ease her mother out of the trunk.

The woman seemed to be in a state of deep shock, hers lips and hands trembling as she stood up. She collapsed and Conal caught her under the arms, all the time talking to her as he helped her across the room towards the stairs. She baulked at going any further when they reached the landing and it took all of their persuasion to get her to go downstairs.

“It’s okay mum,” Lyra whispered in her ear over and over. “I’ve got you now. Whatever it was has gone now. Come on, just one more step, one more. Please.”

Conal, realising that Lyra’s mother needed medical attention as soon as possible, pulled out his mobile. The screen was