Chapter 14

chapter fourteen "Well. I didn't want to go home anyway," Dirk says, watching our human hamster ball drop into the swirling mist below. "Just a minor setback," Quint says. Yeah, I think. And the moon landing was just a minor leap for mankind. The cavernous chamber reminds me of the inside of a hornet's nest. Only instead of hornets, this hive has monsters on monsters on monsters.

"It doesn't change anything. We've got a fortress to destroy," June says. Again, she thrusts her fist into the air—but this time, she whispers when she says, "Woo-hoo!" I'm reading the room. So am I friend? And it appears the directory Him is somewhere down there A sloshing, screeching sound suddenly fills the air. I turn to see what looks like a horribly huge, grotesquely deformed caterpillar rocketing toward us, skittering along a thin track made of something like fingernails dipped in wax. "Get back!" Dirk shouts, but it's too late.

The thing is upon us, and it's all we can do to jump. It's intended to be a jump out of the way. But instead we're caught mid-leap, the speeding thing slamming into us with a tremendous— We're knocked up and over the front, then sent sailing back, into the thing—

This thing's got a face like mashed bubble gum or a brain, an exposed open brain, a mine car or no? A mind cart. There is confusion—a dizzying scramble as we try to sit ourselves upright. Finally, we settle into position single file, like an Olympic bobsled team. The Mind Cart suddenly veers away from the wall, carrying us out into the cavernous chamber. Dirk barks, "Quint, buddy, you gotta find that Directarium thing NOW!" Quint doesn't waste breath responding. His eyes dart across the Maparatus screen while he swings the

cannon, searching. He doesn't even blink when a gnarly bug splats against his cheek. "Monsters!" Dirk shouts as the Mind Cart hurtles us into the next chamber. "Down below!" But the monsters are not alive; not real. They are statues. Mammoth statues, carved from glowing stone. The stiff monstrosities rise up, piercing the neon mist below. Other effigies—cracked and crumbling—loom from the walls, gazing down upon us with hollow, lifeless eyes. One of the horrible monuments—its two mouths stretched open in a frozen roar—reaches out. Arms sprout from its back like twisted growths—and they remind me of the Cosmic Hand and the way it continues creeping up my arm, growing, spreading like an infection. Before the thought can fill me with further dread— and trust me, the last thing I need right now is further dread—I hear—

the directory. Im a faint signal another few moments and I should have a full lock on it. Quint is silenced as the Mind Cart dives downward, and— "HELP!" I cry as I'm tossed out of my seat. "CAN'T HELP! WE'RE BEING TOSSED, TOOOOOO!" June shouts. I hang in the air for a horribly long moment, my stomach flipping and rolling, before— SPLAT! I land on the platform behind the cart, face-planting into what feels like a beanbag chair stuffed with bones. Pulling back, I see something like a... larva- sac? There's fluid inside—and floating in the fluid is