End of an Era by Robert J. Sawyer Read Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Robert J. Sawyer
ground again.
The remaining troodon, five meters away from me, crouched low, its slender legs folded at an acute angle. I had made it to my knees when it leapt, knocking the wind out of me with its impact. The creature stood over me, its long arms bent like less-than and greater-than signs. They reached forward, the crescent claws grabbing the sides of my head. If I’d made the slightest movement, those strong hands would have shredded my face, tearing my eyes from their sockets. I felt, for the first time in my life, that I was going to die. Panic gripped me like a shrinking sweater, binding my chest, constricting my breathing. The drying blood on my cheeks cracked as my face contorted to scream my final scream.
But death did not come.
Something was happening to the troodon. Its face convulsed, the tip of its muzzle twitched, and, much to my amazement, sky-blue jelly, faintly phosphorescent, began to ooze from the dinosaur’s close-together nostrils. I watched in horror, unable to move, thinking that the creature must be allergic to my strange twenty-first-century biochemistry. I expected the monster to sneeze, its clawed hands convulsing shut on my face as its body racked.
Instead, more of the jelly began to ooze from around its bulging eyes, rolling slowly along the contours of its face. The thick slime also began to bead up on the skin halfway down the reptile’s long snout, over the top of its preorbital fenestrae, those large openings in the sides of dinosaurian skulls. The thing was looking down at me, so all the jelly flowed toward the tip of its snout. It slowly ran together, joining into one viscous lump.
The mass continued to grow, seeping out of the creature’s head, until a glob the size of a baseball had collected at the end of its long face. It hung lower and lower, taking on a teardrop shape, until finally, horribly, the glistening, trembling lump dropped off the creature’s nose, hitting my face with a soft, warm, moist splat.
I had slammed my eyes shut just before the glob of jelly hit, but I could feel it on me, oozing like worms through the whiskers of my beard, pressing down on my cheeks, heavy on my eyelids. The mass was pulsing and rippling, almost as if probing my features. Suddenly it started to flow up my nostrils and then, a moment later,
through
the cartilage of my nose. I felt completely stuffed up, as though I had an awful cold. The mass within my nasal passages undulated back into my head. I felt pressure on my temples and, painfully, through the curving channels of my ears. The sounds of the forest muffled and finally faded away as the jelly pressed against my eardrums. All I could hear now was my own heartbeat, booming at a rapid pace.
Suddenly a burst of blue light appeared in my right eye and then, a second later, in my left. The phosphorescent slime had seeped through my clenched lids and was now sliding around my eyeballs. My lungs were burning with the need to breathe, but I fought the sensation, terrified to open my mouth.
And then, mercifully, a reprieve was granted — or so I thought. The sickle troodon claws that had been holding my head let go. I waited for the hands to swipe back, julienning my face. Five seconds. Ten. I dared open one eye a slit, then, astonished, popped them both wide. The dinosaur was walking away with docile meter-long strides. It stopped, then turned around, its stiff tail clearing a wide arc. The thing’s cat-like eyes fell on mine, but there was no malice, no frenzy, no cunning in the dull gaze. Every few seconds, the creature shuffled its bird-like feet to keep balanced. I brought my hands to my face to wipe away the blue jelly, but there was nothing there except drying flakes of dinosaur blood, left over from the troodon Klicks had decapitated earlier.
My lungs were pumping like blowfishes in heat. Indeed, still panicky, I feared I was going to hyperventilate. I fought to bring my breathing under control. I tried to rise to my feet, my one
The remaining troodon, five meters away from me, crouched low, its slender legs folded at an acute angle. I had made it to my knees when it leapt, knocking the wind out of me with its impact. The creature stood over me, its long arms bent like less-than and greater-than signs. They reached forward, the crescent claws grabbing the sides of my head. If I’d made the slightest movement, those strong hands would have shredded my face, tearing my eyes from their sockets. I felt, for the first time in my life, that I was going to die. Panic gripped me like a shrinking sweater, binding my chest, constricting my breathing. The drying blood on my cheeks cracked as my face contorted to scream my final scream.
But death did not come.
Something was happening to the troodon. Its face convulsed, the tip of its muzzle twitched, and, much to my amazement, sky-blue jelly, faintly phosphorescent, began to ooze from the dinosaur’s close-together nostrils. I watched in horror, unable to move, thinking that the creature must be allergic to my strange twenty-first-century biochemistry. I expected the monster to sneeze, its clawed hands convulsing shut on my face as its body racked.
Instead, more of the jelly began to ooze from around its bulging eyes, rolling slowly along the contours of its face. The thick slime also began to bead up on the skin halfway down the reptile’s long snout, over the top of its preorbital fenestrae, those large openings in the sides of dinosaurian skulls. The thing was looking down at me, so all the jelly flowed toward the tip of its snout. It slowly ran together, joining into one viscous lump.
The mass continued to grow, seeping out of the creature’s head, until a glob the size of a baseball had collected at the end of its long face. It hung lower and lower, taking on a teardrop shape, until finally, horribly, the glistening, trembling lump dropped off the creature’s nose, hitting my face with a soft, warm, moist splat.
I had slammed my eyes shut just before the glob of jelly hit, but I could feel it on me, oozing like worms through the whiskers of my beard, pressing down on my cheeks, heavy on my eyelids. The mass was pulsing and rippling, almost as if probing my features. Suddenly it started to flow up my nostrils and then, a moment later,
through
the cartilage of my nose. I felt completely stuffed up, as though I had an awful cold. The mass within my nasal passages undulated back into my head. I felt pressure on my temples and, painfully, through the curving channels of my ears. The sounds of the forest muffled and finally faded away as the jelly pressed against my eardrums. All I could hear now was my own heartbeat, booming at a rapid pace.
Suddenly a burst of blue light appeared in my right eye and then, a second later, in my left. The phosphorescent slime had seeped through my clenched lids and was now sliding around my eyeballs. My lungs were burning with the need to breathe, but I fought the sensation, terrified to open my mouth.
And then, mercifully, a reprieve was granted — or so I thought. The sickle troodon claws that had been holding my head let go. I waited for the hands to swipe back, julienning my face. Five seconds. Ten. I dared open one eye a slit, then, astonished, popped them both wide. The dinosaur was walking away with docile meter-long strides. It stopped, then turned around, its stiff tail clearing a wide arc. The thing’s cat-like eyes fell on mine, but there was no malice, no frenzy, no cunning in the dull gaze. Every few seconds, the creature shuffled its bird-like feet to keep balanced. I brought my hands to my face to wipe away the blue jelly, but there was nothing there except drying flakes of dinosaur blood, left over from the troodon Klicks had decapitated earlier.
My lungs were pumping like blowfishes in heat. Indeed, still panicky, I feared I was going to hyperventilate. I fought to bring my breathing under control. I tried to rise to my feet, my one