A Matter For Men Part 9

He was right. I'd seen the way the millipedes had attacked his footgear. It was identical to mine and the millipedes had ignored me. I pulled off my boot and handed it across.

He held it up to the mesh. The millipedes tested it with their antennae, then lost interest in it and wandered away. Ted tried it again on the other side. The millipedes did the same thing.

Ted frowned and held the boot close to his face. He sniffed. Once, twice, a third time, curiously. "Smells fishy. What'd you step in?"

"Nothing," I said. Then remembered. "Uh-eggs."

"Eggs-? You mean like in chicken, cluck-cluck-cluck?"

"No. I mean like in Chtorran."

His expression was incredulous. "You stepped on Chtorran eggs-?"

"It was inside the nest-"

"Inside the nest-? Yipe! I take it all back, Jimmy boy. You're not smart at all. There's a safer way to kill Chtorrans than by walking into their nests and stomping on their eggs. What do you think flamethrowers are for?"

"I didn't mean to step on the eggs. It was an accident."

"I hope you told that to Mamma Chtorran."

"Besides, Duke was going to burn them anyway, so I climbed down and saved a few."

For a moment there was silence.

Then Ted said, "Do you have them with you?"

I upended the pouch and tumbled them out onto the table. There must have been a dozen, at least.

Ted stared; so did the two other men who still remained. I didn't know their names. The eggs were blood-red and smooth, still moist-looking and slightly translucent. There was something dark inside. Gingerly, Ted picked one up and sniffed it. "Raw fish, all right." He held it against the side of the millipede cage. They tested it incuriously, then lost interest. "Well, that's what saved your life, Jimbo-the fact that you're such a clumsy r.e.t.a.r.d. You must have had egg all over you."

I thought back. "You're right. I know I had it up to my knees and all over my arms." I shuddered at the thought of what might have happened if I hadn't. And that was probably why my three specimens hadn't tried to chew their way out of the sample pouch -the smell of the eggs around them.

"Uh huh-" Ted was holding the egg up to the light.

"See anything?" I asked.

"It says, 'Disregard previous egg.' " He replaced it on the table. "I can't tell."

"You know what these remind me of?" I said. "Ant eggs."

"Ant eggs?"

"Uh huh. They have that same kind of almost-translucency. And their sh.e.l.ls are soft too. Look, see how they bounce? What does that suggest?"

"Handball?"

I ignored it. "It means we can begin to learn something about how they evolved. Birds and reptiles have hard-sh.e.l.led eggs-it's for extra strength and water retention. This might indicate a lower level of development. Insects or amphibians."

"Worms are a little bit of each?"

"Maybe." I picked up the egg again. "On the other hand, maybe the Chtorran atmosphere is humid enough so that moisture retention is not a very important survival factor. And this sh.e.l.l seems to be awfully thick, almost cartilaginous. That might provide the protection the embryo needs, particularly if Chtorr does have a higher gravity than Earth. That's what some of the fellows around here think. It would explain the Chtorrans' extreme strength and mobility." I frowned and held the egg up to the light. "I don't know. The shape of an egg and the texture of its sh.e.l.l should tell you things about the conditions it's meant to hatch under-and that should give you clues about the nature of the parent and the offspring. But I don't know how to begin to figure this one out. My brain hurts-there are too many questions. Like, for instance, how come if these millipede things are so incredibly voracious they aren't interested in the eggs?" I pressed the egg to the mesh again. "It doesn't make sense."

"Maybe they can tell it's a Chtorran, and they're afraid of it even before it hatches."

"Sorry, I can't imagine these creatures pa.s.sing up a free meal. There must be something about these eggs that's distasteful."

Ted blinked. "Wow! An egg with its own defense mechanism." He looked up. "What are you planning to do with them?"

"I was thinking of rigging up an incubator."

Ted whistled softly. "Jimmy, I've got to admire your . . . bravado. Or something. You're either the smartest d.a.m.n fool around here-or the dumbest. It's not enough you have to rescue Chtorran eggs from the incinerator; now you want to hatch them. When Duke hears about this, he's going to have a fit."

I hadn't thought about Duke. "Why? What's wrong with the idea?"

"Oh, nothing; it's just that the purpose of this Special Forces operation is to kill worms, not breed them."

"Not entirely," I insisted. "You and I were sent up here to study the Chtorrans."

"That doesn't mean we have to make pets of them."

"And how else are we going to get close enough to study them? Do you know a better way to observe one long enough to learn anything? On a hunt, as soon as you see a worm, you burn it. No, the only way we're going to be the scientists we were sent up here to be is to put some worms in a cage and watch to see what makes them tick-and if we can't capture a live one, then we'll have to grow our own."

"Simmer down, I'm on your side. I think. It's just that I don't think the idea is going to be very popular around here; this isn't a P.O.W. camp-and that's another thing; even if you do hatch a few worms, where are you going to keep them?"

"We'll think of something," I mumbled. I was trying to think of something.

"We?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Yes. We. Remember, you're an exobiologist too."

"Oh, yeah-I forgot." Ted looked unhappy. "But I think this is one of those times when I'd rather be a botulinus tester." He said, "I mean, raising the worms is going to be the easy part-"

"Huh?"

He clapped me on the shoulder. "Jimbo, put the bugs to bed. I'm going to talk to Duke."

"Want me to come along?"

"Uh, better not. Duke's had a ... rough day. I think I can be more tactful. You just tuck 'em in for the night and leave the rest to me."

"Well ... okay."

I left the millipedes in the mess hall for the night, with a canvas draped over the coop and a sign that said DANGER! On it. The eggs were slightly more difficult, but I borrowed Ted's electric blanket and put them in a cardboard box with it draped across the top as a makeshift incubator. To keep the eggs from drying out, I lined the box with a layer of plastic, then a layer of towels, and then sprayed it all with warm water-enough to keep the towels damp, but not soggy. It was just a guess. I'd have to work out something more permanent in the morning.

I had trouble falling asleep. I couldn't help it. Someone was screaming in my head, Shorty's dead!

I kept telling myself that I had barely known him; I shouldn't be feeling it this hard. But I hurt all over, and-oh, h.e.l.l, I couldn't help it; I started crying again.

I was still awake, just lying there, aching, when Ted came in. He didn't turn on the light, just undressed in the dark and slipped into his bed as quietly as he could.

"What did Duke say?" I asked.

"Huh? Oh, I didn't know you were awake."

"I'm not. Not really. What did Duke say?"

"Nothing. I didn't talk to him."

"You were gone an awfully long time."

"Yeah," he said. "I'll tell you in the morning. Maybe." He rolled over and faced the wall.

"Ted," I said, "Shorty died because I wasn't fast enough, didn't he?"

"I don't know," he mumbled. "I wasn't there."

"It's my fault, isn't it?"

"Shut up, will you?"

"But-"

"It'll all be settled tomorrow. There's going to be a hearing."

"A what?"

"An inquest, stupid! An inquest. Now, go to sleep, d.a.m.n you!"

TWELVE.

THE INQUEST was held in the mess hall. Duke, Hank, Larry, two of the other men from the mission (whose names I still didn't know) and myself. Dr. Obama, doubling as medical officer, sat at the head of the table. She had a yellow, legal-sized pad of paper in front of her, covered with precise little notes. Ted sat just to her left with a transcriber terminal; his job was to answer the machine's questions about sound-alike or mumbled words. I was at the opposite end-with sweaty palms. Dr. Obama was looking very quiet and when she finally did speak, I had to strain to hear her. "All right, Duke," she said. "What happened?"

Duke told her, quickly and efficiently. He left out nothing, but neither did he waste time on elaborate descriptions. Dr. Obama showed no reaction throughout, other than an occasional nod, as if she were ticking off each of Duke's facts on a mental checklist.

"We followed procedure all the way," concluded Duke. "That's the annoying thing. If there were only something I could identify as a mistake-some error in judgment, even my own, that I could find-at least we might learn something; but I've been over this thing a hundred times, and I just don't know. We did everything by the book. . . ." He hesitated. "Maybe the book is wrong." He fell silent, spreading his battered hands out on the table before him; they had been scrubbed unnaturally clean for this hearing. "I have no explanation how we missed those worms."

Dr. Obama was thoughtful. She didn't look at Duke at all. At last, she cleared her throat slightly and murmured, "It seems we have several areas of investigation here." She shifted the pad of paper in front of her and read from it: "First, where were the Chtorrans hiding that they were undetectable to the Mobe sensors, as well as to Duke, Larry-"

Ted murmured something, his fingers suddenly moving on the terminal keyboard.

"Eh? What's that?" Dr. Obama looked annoyed.

"Last names," whispered Ted. "The record requires it." "Oh." Dr. Obama went blank for a moment, trying to backtrack her train of thought. "Uh-" She looked at her yellow pad again. "Where were the Chtorrans hiding that they were undetectable to Captain Archibald 'Duke' Anderson, Lieutenant Lawrence Milburn, Corporal Carlos Ruez and Observer James McCarthy-who else was inside the hut?"

"No one," said Duke. "Just the four you listed."

Dr. Obama seemed not to hear him; she continued on to her second point, "Next. Why-and this is a very important point to consider-why did all of them miss detecting the Chtorrans? That the Mobe also missed the Chtorrans is very important. ... " She glanced at Ted. "This part is off the record, Jackson." Ted stopped, hit a b.u.t.ton and rested his hands by the sides of the terminal. To the rest of us, Dr. Obama continued, "While I may know each of you personally and am willing to vouch for your integrity, there are those who prefer to look for scapegoats when something like this happens. In most cases, they would sooner take the word of a machine and suspect the human beings of carelessness. Machines rarely have ulterior motives. Count it as a blessing that the machine agrees with you here." She nodded at Ted, then continued with a touch more formality. "That the Mobe was unable to detect the Chtorrans confirms your story that the dome was to all appearances empty. The Mobe is supposed to be able to detect things beyond the range of normal human senses-and, vice versa, a human observer also has capabilities that the machine lacks, not the least of which is a sense of judgment. Wherever the Chtorrans were, both kinds of observation failed to detect them, indicating-as do certain other facts which we will consider-that the standard procedures do not allow for every contingency."

She referred again to her notes. "Third, the a.s.sumption was made that the Chtorrans would be torpid within their shelter. This has been the pattern in the past, but now we must ask, were they in fact within the shelter the whole time? And were they in fact in their most inactive state? It has been a general experience, not just in this area, but in other locations as well, that when worms-excuse me, Chtorrans-go inactive they do so as a group, and generally they go to the coolest part of their shelter; that is, the second level, the underground half. If they were there, the Mobe should have detected them, as should have any of the aforementioned individuals. Which brings up two more questions: What range were the Mobe's sensors set for? How were these parameters determined? On what basis? Perhaps we will have to reexamine that particular aspect of our procedure. Yes, Hank?" To Ted, "Henry Lannikin."

Hank cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Well, Dr. Obama, there is a window in the sensing matrices-but it shouldn't have been big enough to let a Chtorran slip through, let alone three -I mean, four-of them. A hot Chtorran within ten meters will trigger the flash, but with a cold one-that is, one that's inactive-the Mobe has to be within four meters. Sorry, but they work so far in the infrared, they can't help but be nearsighted. The point is, if those worms were in the but, whether hot or cold, the Mobe should have flashed. The only way it could have missed cold ones, they'd have had to have been too far away-like out of the hut. And we know that wasn't the case, because we didn't see them."

"Maybe those domes are getting bigger on the inside," Larry offered.

Dr. Obama looked at him coldly. "Do you think that's possible?"

"h.e.l.l, I don't know," said Larry. "Every other one I've been into has only had two levels, top and bottom. If the worms started digging deeper than that, I didn't see 'em."

Dr. Obama considered the thought. "It isn't impossible that the wor-Chtorrans have changed their life style, but we have several other discrepancies to consider as well." She looked annoyed. "This has been a very atypical affair all around." She resumed her professional manner. "Sixth question, why was there a fourth Chtorran in the nest? Where did it come from? And why did it delay its attack? What was there different about this one that caused it to hang back for several moments? Also notice that it was the largest of the four Chtorrans encountered; significantly larger. What is the importance of that? Finally, is such an event likely to be encountered again in the future? Obviously we will have to modify our existing procedures to allow for that possibility.

"Seventh and eighth questions. What, if any, is the significance of the plant life surrounding the Chtorran shelter? We have not found such plants around the shelters in the past. Why here? Why now? Are these, in fact, specimens of native Chtorran vegetation?"

I'd transplanted all of my samples, each into its own pot. I had no idea how to handle them. Were they dangerous-or what? I wasn't even sure how to test them. Dr. Obama's questions barely scratched the surface.

She continued, "And what about the creatures observed in the Chtorran corral-those were burned as well? Ah, good. What is their place in the Chtorran ecology?" She stopped, looked around the table. "Are there any other questions that we want to consider? Yes, Duke?"

"What about Shorty?" Abruptly, my stomach dropped.

"Yes." Dr. Obama looked to her notes, but she'd already turned to a blank page. There was no answer there. "We all feel bad about that."

"That's not what I meant," said Duke, very quietly. I wondered if I was going to be sick.

"I know what you meant, Duke." Dr. Obama was every bit as quiet. "All right," she said. "Let's get it over with. Could you have saved him?"

"No," said Duke.

"Is there anyone here who could have saved Sergeant Harris?" asked Dr. Obama. She looked around the room. Larry was studying his fists; they were buried in his lap. He almost looked like he was praying. Carlos and Hank didn't say anything either; even Ted's hands were motionless on his keyboard.

"I should have been faster," I said. The words seemed unnaturally loud in the mess hall. Everyone but Dr. Obama looked at me, but having said it, I felt relieved. There, it was out. "I should have been faster, but the specimen pack was in the way. I couldn't get at my torch quick enough. If I'd been faster, maybe I could have saved him; maybe I could have gotten the worm before it-"

Dr. Obama said, "I doubt it. Sergeant Harris himself checked you out on that torch." She was still looking at her notepad. "And I approved his certification of you. Under the circ.u.mstances, that makes me equally responsible. As well as Duke."

"Thank you, ma'am. I recognize what you're trying to do-but I know that I was carrying the pack wrong."

Dr. Obama shook her head. "There's no one else who saw that. Despite your good intentions, McCarthy, I can't accept your statement as evidence."

"Excuse me," I said.