Bugbear
By captainmcdan
- 890 reads
'There's a something in the ducting.'
Conan looked up from his magazine and groped for his coffee mug. 'A what,' he said.
'A something, in the ducting.'
'Like a gremlin?'
'Maybe, possibly a bugbear.'
'A bugbear.'
'Possibly.'
'I'll get my pointed stick,' he said, and took a sip of the coffee. It had gone cold.
Marie was still standing at the far side of the table looking down at him.
'Okay, okay,' he said. 'I'm going.' And he went.
The ship shuddered as he clambered down the ladder. He knew what it was, a retaining bracket had come loose on number four engine. Traffic had had them under telemetry since they were a parsec out and was jerking them around like a blue arse'd fly.
'And Conan,' Marie called down the hatch.
He looked up, if she had been wearing a skirt he could have seen up it. 'Yeah,' he said.
'I want that shake fixed properly this time.'
'Ya mein fuhrer,' he said under his breath.
'What was that?'
'I said it's not a shake, it's a shudder.'
She stepped out of view.
His pointed stick needed recharging. He gave it a shake, took the batteries out and rubbed them between his palms, but could not get it to come on for more that the time it took to tell him it needed recharging and was automatically shutting down.
He poked his head round the door into the alien's cabin, it was sitting on the bed apparently doing nothing. 'Hey,' he said, 'have you got a pointed stick I could borrow.'
'You already borrowed it,' said the alien.
'Oh yeah, do you have any spare batteries for it.'
'They're rechargeable.'
'I know, but Marie says there's a bugbear in the ducting and wants me to sort it out.'
'So recharge them.'
'I think she wants it done now.'
'All right,' said the alien, 'you can use the ones from my walkman.'
'Cheers,' said Conan, 'you want to come help.'
'No, I'm busy.'
'Doing what?'
'Apparently nothing,' said the Alien.
He was glad the alien had not come, there was something not right about someone who kept forgetting where he left his nose. He twisted the hatch open with both arms. The dehumidifier was on the fritz again and every surface in the arse-end of the ship was damp to the touch, a sort of orange fungus was following the tiled pattern on the floor radially outwards from the drain.
He jabbed the stick into the empty black hole just to be sure, shone the torch around, crouched down and walked awkwardly in. The ducting ran in a lattice pattern around the inner hull of the ship like a sort of posh sausage roll. He followed it up, outside of Marie's cabin he stopped and peered through the grating, but she was not there. He listened, hoping maybe she was in the shower, but he did not hear the shower running, instead he heard something move above him.
He readied the pointed stick and aimed it in the direction of up and shone the torch beam around the hole, there was nothing there. The dark pipe ascended further than the torch beam reached, he pointed it straight up and squinted, but still saw nothing. Then the torch went out.
He knocked it against the side of the duct and it flicked back on, from above he heard a similar, single, knock.
He aimed the torch in the direction of the sound, but still saw nothing.
Very slowly, keeping it pointing upwards, he rested the torch on the metal wall, and then drew it back and knocked twice.
From above the knock echoed. Knock knock.
He tried again, three times.
Knock knock knock.
He knocked a little tune against the wall, knock kno-knock knock knock.
Knock knock, came the reply.
'Two bits,' he said to himself, and then 'bugbears don't do that.'
He clamped the torch under the thumb of the hand holding the pointed stick so that it pointed where the stick was aiming, and slowly started climbing the ladder, pausing at each step to check above him. After six steps he heard movement above him, something scraping against the side of the ship. He held the torch and stick out at arms length and peered into the darkness. There was nothing but black, a sort of silent lifeless black like the inside of an unopened tin can. The torch was too weak to illuminate anything more than a few metres away. Beyond that it was just black and nothing, nothing but black, nothing but nothing and the nothing was black as black. Then the black moved, and the nothing shifted into fur and teeth that also moved, that moved towards him. Fast. He dropped the torch, dropped the stick, and fell scrabbling at the ladder and landed on his arse. Without looking up he leapt to his feet and ran screaming out of the ducting, securely locking the hatch behind him.
'That was no bugbear,' he said five minutes later, sipping a cup of tea, 'that was a horror.'
Marie and the alien sat across the table from him and said nothing. He definitely thought he deserved more sympathy than he was getting. 'You said it was a bugbear,' he said.
'I said it was possibly a bugbear,' said Marie.
'I'm not going back in there,' he said, and he put the cup down, making sure it rattled on the table so that they understood his hands were trembling.
'It's your job,' said Marie.
'I'll go,' said the alien, making a movement that might well have been analogous to rolling its eyes.
'Yeah,' said Conan, 'he can go.'
'I'm not a he,' said the alien. 'I'm an it.'
'You can both go,' said Marie.
Conan looked at her, 'I'm not going in unarmed,' he said. 'I want the duck punt gun.'
Marie did not reply.
'It's big this thing,' he said, 'a proper horror, all fur and teeth the size of my forearm.'
'Alright,' said Marie, 'you can have the gun.'
'I'll get it,' said the alien.
Conan looked at Marie. 'You are so going to have to sleep with me after this,' he said.
'No I'm not.'
'Oh go on, that thing is huge.'
'We'll be on world in two days,' she said, 'get laid there.'
The alien was already waiting at the entrance to the ducting holding the duck punt gun and two high-power head torches.
'Where did you get those?' asked Conan.
'In the maintenance locker.'
'I get to hold the gun,' he said, taking it from the alien.
'Then you go in first,' said the alien.
Conan considered giving the gun back, but decided he felt safe enough with the gun and torch pointing forwards and the alien watching his back. He stooped down and stepped back into the ducting.
'Where is my pointed stick,' said the alien.
'Outside Marie's room.'
'What were you doing there?'
'Looking through the grating to see if she was naked.'
The alien made a noise like zinc hitting zinc. 'I'm always naked,' it said.
'Yeah,' said Conan, 'I wish you weren't, your genitals flapping about like a bunch of hot water bottles.'
'Those aren't my genitals.'
'No, what are they?'
'A bunch of hot water bottles.'
'No shit?' said Conan, 'so where are your genitals.'
'I forgot where I left them.'
'I thought that was your nose.'
'It is both.'
'Aw man, I touched that one time.'
The alien grabbed him by the shoulder and aimed a finger like appendage at the ground, the pointed stick lay in two neat halves, sliced lengthways down the middle.
'Be very quiet,' said the alien, very quietly.
'I hope that's insured,' whispered Conan, 'because I'm not paying for it.'
Conan reached down to pick up the remains of the pointed stick, as he did he heard a sound from above him, the scrape of claws and teeth on metal. He looked up, and in the light of the head torch saw the horror scrabbling rapidly downwards towards him.
'Wait,' said the alien.
Conan lurched the duck punt gun to his shoulder and fired, it knocked him backwards into the alien sent them both sprawling into a heap on the floor. In seconds he felt the horror scrabble over him and he screamed and curled up into a ball.
'You idiot,' said the alien.
Conan looked up, the air was thick with smoke from the gun, but he saw clearly the alien holding the horror by the scruff of the neck. He coughed.
'I think it's cute,' said Marie.
The horror clung upside down by teeth and claws to the hastily jury rigged chicken-wire covered packing case cage. It leered at them with one yellow eye and chomped at the wire. Conan looked back at it and sneered. 'So are you going to sleep with me now,' he said.
'No,' said Marie.
'Oh go on.'
'Oh yeah,' she said, 'because you were so brave.'
'Well at least let me see you naked.'
'I'll buy you a hooker when we land,' she said.
'I'll be thinking of you.'
'I'd really rather you wouldn't.'
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