CHAPTER 22The sponge-like, jelly-like, squamous mass was something from a nightmare; it reached with fretted tentacles ringing a puckered orifice that could have been a mouth. Varl lunged for the controls, slamming his hand on the intercom, barking orders.
“Lydon! Turn off that machine! Kill the PEAP! Now!”
He turned as Lydon made no answer to snap at the doctor. “Go and see that it’s done. Find out what the fool thinks he’s doing. Owen, man the guns! Reitsch!” he snapped into the intercom.
“Commander?”
“Stand by for use of rocket power. If there’s trouble, see to it immediately. First priority.” Varl slammed his hand on a button. “Red alert! Battle stations!”
The blare of the alarm echoed through the ship as he checked the screen. The thing was closer, and seemed to be incredibly vas
