Читать книгу The Devil's Whelp - Vin Hammond Jackson - Страница 13

From where he had been floating just below the surface, Eddie had seen Jack looking, but he didn't feel the way he had in the past about the diving super, not the way he ought to, because he wasn't really Eddie any more. He only looked like Eddie; inside, he was now something else.

It remained beneath the surface and moved a little closer to the awful, floating thing called a rig. It knew what it was, the way it knew so much more of this other world, now that it could be a part of it, be one of them.

The view from inside this pathetic creature was very limiting, but there were advantages. It could draw on the human's memory, at least that part it had managed to glimpse before Eddie had stopped thinking. From these memories, it knew something of what these humans were and why they were here. And it knew quite intimate things about some of the other creatures this one had associated with.

It knew that the one who had been looking out at it was Jack Pierce, that he was something called a diving supervisor, and that Eddie had liked him. They were friends. It wasn't sure what a friend really was, having none of its own - It didn't think it had - but the feeling was warm and not unpleasant.

There was another thought - it wondered how Jack Pierce would react if, now that he was dead, Eddie came up to meet him and said: "I'll bet ye did nay think tay see me again, Jack?" That might be fun, but it was pretty sure that the time wasn't right. Later, maybe, when it was more used to this peculiar shell it now inhabited.