Part 34 (1/2)
I looked up. The speaker was another one of those crankylooking officers I had been running into ever since getting off the chopper.
”Yes, sir. It is.”
”By whose authority?”
”Special Forces.”
He shook his head. ”Sorry, soldier. Not here. This operation is regular army.” Somehow, the way he said it, he meant the real army.
I looked at his bars. ”Major,” I said, ”I was given orders to stand right here and wear this helmet and carry this rifle. I was told to do this because there is a large, purple and red, man-eating caterpillar in the cage under that curtain. The theory is that if that creature should somehow break loose, I'm supposed to stop it.”
The major put his arm around my shoulder and led me off to a corner of the stage. The curtain was still closed. ”Son-” he started to say warmly.
”Don't call me 'son.' I'm an officer.”
”Lieutenant,” he said stiffly, ”don't be an a.s.shole. I want you off this stage-and the other j.e.r.k.-.o.f.f. too.” He pointed to the rifleman on the other side of the stage. I hadn't exchanged more than two words with him. All I knew about him was that his name was Scott and he stuttered.
”I'm sorry, sir. I can't do that.”
”Listen to me, stupid. Under the terms of the conference charter, this is supposed to be an entirely civilian operation. The military is only to provide supplementary aid and keep a very low profile. I am ordering you off this stage.”
”Yes, sir. Would you put that in writing, sir?”
He hesitated. Then he said, ”Listen to me-the gla.s.s walls of that cage are laced with doped silicon monofibers. Do you honestly think that creature is likely to break through those panels?”
”It doesn't matter whether I think it's likely or not, sir. Would you put those orders in writing?”
”Who's your commanding officer?” he scowled.
I could have kissed him for asking. ”Uncle Ira,” I said.
”I see...... He said it slowly. I could almost see the wheels turning in his head. ”Those are his orders, then?”
”Yes, sir.”
”Well”-he had to say something-”lock those safeties on. I don't want any accidents.”
”Yes, sir.”
”All right. Thank you. Resume your post.”
I went back to the side of the cage. As soon as the major left the stage, I flicked the safeties off again.
A few minutes later, Dr. Zymph walked through. She took one look at me and another at the other lieutenant on the other side and frowned. She disappeared into the wings of the stage for a moment, and when she came back, she came straight toward me. ”Lieutenant?”
I flipped the goggles up. ”Ma'am?”
Apparently she didn't recognize me from yesterday, not with the helmet on. Just as well. She said, ”Would you mind standing in the wings where the audience can't see you?”
”I thought you said these things were dangerous.”
”I did and they are. But I want you out of sight. Please?”
I thought about it. ”Sure. No problem.” I moved off. She went and spoke to Scott on the other side and he did likewise.
Dr. Zymph waved to an aide-it was Jerry Larson from Molly Partridge's office. I wondered what he was doing here. He gestured to someone else offstage and the stage lights s.h.i.+fted to a dimmer, redder color, and after a few tests with some sophisticated light sensors, Dr. Zymph was satisfied. She nodded to Larson and he and another aide began undraping the gla.s.s case with the Chtorran in it.
Without thinking, I flipped my goggles down over my eyes and switched the laser beam on. The red light of the stage turned gray. The beam appeared as an eerie bar of flickering luminescent color.
They were undraping the other side first, so I didn't see the Chtorran-only the reactions of those who were looking toward it. Their faces were pearly green. Their expressions were stiff. They looked like zombies. I wondered how the rest of the conference would react when the main curtain went up. And then the last of the drape came off the gla.s.s case on my side and I could see the Chtorran too. It was a bright silvery worm. Its color was beautiful in the adjusted image of the goggles. It glowed.
Almost instinctively, I brought the rifle barrel up. The flickery beam played across the Chtorran's soft fur. Immediately-as if it could sense the beam, somehow-it turned to look at me. Its great lidless eyes focused on me with dispa.s.sionate interest. The same look it had given the dogs.
Was this the last thing Shorty had seen?
I lowered the beam. I didn't know if the creature could sense it or not, but I didn't want to irritate it. The Chtorran continued to study me. It unfolded its arms and pressed them against the gla.s.s. Then it moved forward and pressed its face-if you could call it a face-against the cold surface. Was it tasting?
It slid even further forward then, lifting a third of its bulk up the side of the cage. It leaned on the gla.s.s. The frame creaked ominously.
”Don't worry, it'll hold,” someone behind me said. I didn't turn to look. I just brought the beam back up and held it on the Chtorran's belly until it slid back down again.
”Trrlll . . . ” it said.
Dr. Zymph walked up to the cage then, ignoring the Chtorran, and bent to inspect the front of the platform supporting it. She looked worried. She lifted the edge of the dust ruffle and peered at the supports. She called Larson over and the two of them bent together to look. ”I thought I heard it creak,” she said. ”Does that look correct to you?”
He nodded. ”We're okay.” He looked at his watch. ”You'd better get started.”
”Right.” She stood up then. ”Everybody please clear the stage.” She raised her voice and repeated the command. ”If you're not wearing a red badge, you're not authorized to be here.” She came over to my side of the stage and peeked out through the edge of the curtain. She nodded, satisfied.
”Counting the house?” I asked.
”Eh?” She looked at me, as if surprised I could speak. ”Just checking the seating arrangements.” She picked up her clipboard from the stand where she'd left it, gave a thumbs-up signal to Larson on the opposite side of the stage and stepped out in front of the curtain.
They must have hit her with a spotlight then, because I could see it from this side as a bright spot s.h.i.+mmering in the folds of cloth. Her shadow was a silhouette in the center. She switched on her microphone and began to speak. We could hear her clearly backstage. ”I don't suppose I have to make much of an introduction this afternoon, even though this is something of an unscheduled event. But after the, ah, heated discussions of yesterday as to just how dangerous the gastropedes may be, we thought it best to bring our one live specimen out for display and let you judge for yourselves.”
The Chtorran was looking at me again. I wished it would turn around and look at the fellow on the other side. He was meatier than I.
”Now, before we open the curtain, I want to caution all of you against taking any flash pictures-and we also request that you please try to be as quiet as possible. We're going to bring the lights all the way down and put a spotlight on the gastropede. We're not sure how it will react to a large audience, so we're going to keep it dazzled by the light. For this reason, it's imperative that you not make any unnecessary sounds.”
The Chtorran was fascinated by Dr. Zymph's voice. It kept c.o.c.king its eyes back and forth, trying to locate the source of the sound. If it had any external ears, I couldn't see them. I wondered if that suggested a higher-density atmosphere. That would certainly go with a heavier gravity. Sound waves would be more intense-experientially louder. The creature's ears could be a lot smaller. But would its hearing be better or worse on Earth? Or maybe it didn't need ears. Maybe it could hear with its whole body. Maybe it could even see with its whole body.
”All right, now-” Dr. Zymph was saying, ”-remember to keep very very quiet. Can I have the curtain opened, please?” It slid open like the doorway to a hanger. A single pink shaft of light streamed directly in, widening as the curtain opened. The Chtorran turned to look at it. I could hear gasps from the darkness beyond.
Dr. Zymph didn't say anything. The Chtorran's presence was statement enough. It unfolded its arms and began exploring the front surface of the cage, as if trying to reach the light.
I touched the contrast k.n.o.b on my helmet and the shaft of the spotlight faded. The audience appeared beyond it in a dim green gloom. I turned the k.n.o.b another klick and the bright parts of the image faded further; the darker areas brightened again. I could see the whole auditorium now. The audience was very upset and restless. I could see them whispering excitedly to one another. I could hear them rustling in their seats.