The scent of antiseptic mixed with a putrid pong stung my nostrils. ‘Ugh! What’s that wiffy…?’ I gagged. Then with hand to mouth, I looked up.
Boris lounged on a reclining armchair. He rested on his shell showing off his abdomen. His flesh was covered in gaping wounds infested with maggots.
After some time being tossed around, the vehicle came to an abrupt halt and I banged my head against the metal back of the driver’s seat. I fell. I tried to stand. I keeled over, hitting my head on the floor.
‘Urgh,’ growled some being that sounded like an ape-man. He grabbed one arm.
‘Urumph,’ another ape-man grunted. He gripped my other arm.
They pulled me out so that my toes dragged on stones. The air stank of rotting cabbage.
‘Yes, the IGSF are coming in to help with the rescue—hurry, we haven’t got much time.’ Driver grabbed my hand. ‘We have to go to meet our officers. We have to show them where the mutants and morphans are hiding.’
We hurried up the three rickety flights of stairs leading to the outside.
I had an uneasy feeling about my dream. It seemed just a little too real, like I’d lived it once. Must be a dream.
Mutants appeared from nowhere, for their early morning swim. Their sack-like bodies flopped in the water.
Then the mutants spotted us. And they were after us.
‘Wanna go out with me?’ one asked his tongue hanging out in anticipation.
Another followed us like a shadow. ‘You be my frwend?’
After taking off my cloak, I hooked the cloth in the crook of my elbow and charged through after her.
Several beings, solidly built but half my height, greeted us.
I froze. ‘Wh-what are they? Munchkins?’
‘Meet the “Morphans”, Holly,’ Commander D replied. ‘They won’t bite.’
With pleading eyes and stretching out their hands holding bowls, the “Morphans” cried, ‘Food! Food! Food!’
The viewer showed a mass of black-brown lumps. The stench like rotting fish stung my nostrils.
I sniffed. ‘Can you smell that?’
‘What?’
‘That smell.’
‘What smell?’ The Commander remained unaffected by any smell.
‘The rotting fish smell.’ I put a handkerchief up to my nose and mouth. My eyes streamed. I gagged. ‘Sure the Storm hasn’t cracked…’
‘It’s the pollution. I must warn you about this planet. The laws on this planet are, that there are no laws. Every man does as he sees fit, to quote the Bible. When I read about Sodom and Gomorrah, I think of this planet,’ the Commander added. ‘Remember your spiritual armour, you will need it. And don’t forget your guardian angels, too. And whatever you do, stick by me, don’t go wandering off on your own—it’s a demonic jungle out there.’
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