Crawlers

11:51pm

The Queen paused. Lauren's brow creased into a distracted frown. 

'Casualties,' said her mouth. The voice sounded surprised. 'I am fast running out of hands. But the battle in the Barbican foyer has served its purpose: that situation is about to be rectified.' Lauren's eyes stared into Jasmine's again. 'I have something else to show you.' 

Just ahead of where the Queen had stopped, a long white object was lying on the tunnel's brick floor. It was another of the mysterious cocoon-things Jasmine had seen in the Main Theatre. 

'Allow me to satisfy your scientific curiosity, Jasmine,' said the Queen, extending her tentacle-tongue. Lauren's hands reached out and started to dig and tear at one of the object's rounded ends. 

Jasmine heard a gooey snap, then the Queen pulled Lauren back. Lauren's expression was pleased. 

'We are just in time,' said her mouth. 'Take a look.' 

Jasmine didn't want to, but her feet shuffled obediently forward. Inside the cocoon was a man. Lauren's hands had just revealed his face. 

'This is Mr Steadman,' said the Queen. 'Until tonight, he was the Corporation's leader.' Lauren's eyes glanced down at him. 'How are you feeling, Mr Steadman?' 

The man's skin was grey and waxy-looking. Jasmine had been certain he was dead. That was bad enough, but what she felt now was even worse: Mr Steadman stirred. His eyes sprang open. His mouth split into a blissful grin and in a guttural, bubbling voice he said: 

'Wonderful, my Queen. I feel wonderful.' 

'The Corporation kept me all these years because they wanted my power for themselves,' the Queen explained. 'Steadman's predecessors never quite managed to bring themselves to risk releasing me, but Steadman did. Even though he did so because he thought he could control me, I feel I should thank him.' Lauren looked down at the man. 'Thank you, Steadman,' the Queen told him. 

He did not reply. 

'Naturally,' the Queen added, making Lauren smile, 'such a service deserves its reward. So I have granted Steadman one of the highest honours I can bestow upon my subjects.' Lauren's eyes looked into Jasmine's again. 'Like those you saw in the theatre, he has become my surrogate. He has offered up his body to me, as both sustenance and incubation place. And now,' she announced, 'he's ready to hatch.' 

Jasmine began to be aware of a faint sort of sizzling sound. Her mind crawling with horror, she hoped at first that the sound's origin was the ever-running stream of sewage. 

'How are the little ones, Steadman?' asked the Queen, through Lauren's mouth. 

'They're... tickling, my Queen,' said Mr Steadman. 'I can feel them, all the way through me. They're like champagne bubbles, rising. They're... they're... oh, my Queen!' 

The sound, which was like fat sizzling in a pan, was getting louder. The shape in the cocoon began to struggle and thrash. Jasmine wanted to turn away, to close her eyes - anything to avoid seeing what was about to happen - but she was helpless. She saw it all. 

Mr Steadman went rigid, his face transfixed with a terrible delight. There was a series of clattering sounds like bursting bubble-wrap; then the cocoon was suddenly alive with movement, glittering as if its now-translucent sheath had turned into shimmering liquid. But it wasn't liquid. It was hundreds of thousands of tiny, wriggling bodies. 

Baby crawlers were popping out all over Mr Steadman's torso and legs. They were burrowing out of their cocoon - and out of him. As Jasmine watched, one of the creatures climbed out of Steadman's right nostril and dropped to the brick floor. Including its five legs the newborn crawler was about the size of Jasmine's thumbnail. With a definite sense of purpose it made straight for the sewer channel, jumped in and was carried away by the stream. Before long its hundreds of thousands of siblings followed, a drifting trail of little floating bodies that stretched away from Mr Steadman's shrinking remains, as far as Jasmine's eyes could see.