A Season For Slaughter Part 34

"All right. We're running late. If we don't let this s.h.i.+p get back into the air today, the Brazilians are going to start getting suspicious. Before we go, Dr. Zymph needs to meet privately with the observation teams. Captain Harbaugh, thank you again for the courtesy of your, ah... facilities here. General Tirelli, will you please remain. The rest of you, begin filtering your way back into the various lounges. Don't be conspicuous, but please make sure that you have been seen by at least one or more of our resident Brazilian monitors sometime in the next half hour." What he said next was out of character, and obviously hard for him to say. "Good luck. Be careful.

Come home safe."

I started to turn away, but Lizard grabbed my arm. "Stay," she whispered. "We're not through with you yet."

A fresh manna mushroom feels like soft bread; it has a delicate sweet taste. One that has had a chance to begin drying will collapse in a dusty shower if it is touched.

One that has completely dried out will simply explode like a dandelion, leaving a pink haze of spores floating in the air.

Very much like Terran mushrooms, each of the manna puffb.a.l.l.s is filled with millions of spores, each one smaller than a particle of dust. A field of ripe puffb.a.l.l.s represents trillions and trillions of spores, just waiting to take to the air. Under the right circ.u.mstances-a hot dry wind-the entire field of spores will be liberated into the atmosphere all at the same time. This includes all the spores of all the fruiting puffb.a.l.l.s as well as all the spores of all previous generations of puffb.a.l.l.s that may still be present in the environment.

Given a large enough area and a strong enough wind, an incredible tonnage of manna spores can be picked up, carried, and ultimately redeposited on the landscape.

-The Red Book, (Release 22.19A)

Chapter 39.

Resigned To Fate "The hardest part of war is staying out of it."

-SOLOMON SHORT.

We followed Uncle Ira and Danny Anderson down a long catwalk until they were both sure we were well out of earshot.

"This'll do," said Wallachstein.

As he turned to me, Danny Anderson was already pulling out a sheaf of papers and a pen. He handed them across. "Here, sign all three copies-"

"Can I read them first?"

"Trust me, they're all in order," said Wallachstein. He glanced at his watch. "We don't have a lot of time left. Anderson and I have to be off this s.h.i.+p in thirty minutes, and we still haven't had a chance to kiss the bride."

"Don't get impatient," I snapped. "We haven't had the wedding yet. We've only had time to make a baby. Hey-" I looked up, startled. "These aren't promotion papers. You have me resigning from the Special Forces!"

Wallachstein and Anderson both looked startled. "You didn't tell him?"

Lizard looked unhappy. "I didn't have a chance." She shook her head in resignation and apology. "I figured it would be better if you explained it."

"Explained what?" I demanded.

"General Wainright doesn't like you. Dannenfelser hates you."

"So?"

Danny Anderson spoke up. "I'm afraid you've made rather a had enemy of the Wicked Witch of the West. n.o.body does revenge like a f.a.ggot."

I raised an eyebrow at him. "Excuse me-?" I remembered Lizard telling me once that Danny was gay.

"It takes one to know one. The point is, the son of a b.i.t.c.h has filed charges against you. You nailed him to a wall, didn't you?"

"Not hard enough, I guess. He pried himself loose."

"Well, aside from the fact that there are several dozen members of the general's own staff who'd like to shake your hand, there's also a disciplinary hearing pending.

You're d.a.m.ned lucky that it isn't a court-martial. You have got to be the luckiest G.o.dd.a.m.ned son of a b.i.t.c.h in the whole United States Army. Your history is full of this kind of c.r.a.p. And you've never even had your wrist slapped. That business with leading the renegades to the storage facility, the appropriation of military property, your absence without leave, the a.s.sumption of Captain Duke Anderson's ident.i.ty, that raid you led on the renegade camp, the executions that followed-you left quite a trail of bodies."

Uncle Ira interrupted, "We covered for you then because you were treading very close to several other operations that we needed to protect."

"I never a.s.sumed that it was out of any sense of loyalty to me."

Uncle Ira ignored my interruption. "We also protected you because General Tirelli felt that your testimony might a.s.sist the President in making the decision to use nukes in Colorado."

"G.o.d only knows why we bothered," Danny Anderson said. "That cute little exercise with Major Bellus-well, you pulled a real rating with that stunt. We wouldn't have covered for you on that one, but you have a friend in the President's ear." He didn't have to look to Lizard; I knew what he meant.

"Danny-" Wallachstein stopped his colleague with a touch on the arm. He turned back to me. "The joke is that we can protect you from a charge of murdering civilians-that's easy-but we can't protect you if you rough up a general's catamite.

After I put you on the plane to Panama City, I found out that Dannenfelser had filed charges against you-obviously, he did that with Wainright's backing; the son of a b.i.t.c.h does not stay bought-and now the MPs are looking for you to put you under arrest. I had to do some very fast tap-dancing. Lucky for you, I'm good at it. I managed to lose your paperwork for a while, so they're still looking for you in Idaho or Alaska or somewhere in transit between those points. h.e.l.l, for all I know, you might be in Saskatchewan. I don't know where you went. In fact, I'm not even here myself."

"These papers," said Anderson, indicating the sheaf of doc.u.ments I still held, "are predated. If you resigned your commission before you decked Dannenfelser, he can't bring a military action against you, only a civilian one."

"I see," I said. "And when did I resign my commission?"

"Verbally, to General Tirelli, when you were replaced as science officer on this mission. General Tirelli will confirm that." I looked to Lizard. She nodded.

"This paperwork makes it official. It doesn't protect you if Dannenfelser wants to bring charges against you in civil court, but I think that's highly unlikely. This is going to catch them very off balance."

"I seem to be missing something here. I resign from the Special Forces and everybody's off the hook, right? I a.s.sume that means I'm also off the mission-and if that's true, why did Lizard recla.s.sify me and why did you let me into your Double-Q, Red Status briefing?"

"Would you finish looking through the papers, please? And would you sign them quickly? You're holding up lift-off."

I shuffled through to the bottom of the stack. "What the h.e.l.l?"

"Congratulations," said Wallachstein. "You're going to be the first Indian scout the federal government has hired in more than a century."

"Indian scout-?"

"Uh-huh. The United States Army is authorized to hire civilians for specific purposes as needed. Civilians with special apt.i.tudes. Indian scouts. You're one-quarter Cherokee, aren't you?"

"Does that matter?"

"Not really. It just suits my sense of irony."

"One-eighth Cherokee, actually," I explained. "My maternal grandmother. I'm also one-quarter black and one-quarter Hispanic on my mother's side. We're sort of a one-family melting pot. I've got Jewish and Irish blood too."

"Never mind. That's close enough," Wallachstein cut me off impatiently. He pointed to the papers. "That contract guarantees your employment for the duration of the war, or until either party requests its termination. Your wages will be four times what you earned in the Army; plus, you're eligible for the continuation of all current military insurance, medical, financial, and other allied benefits. And, yes, you'll continue to collect bounties on every worm you kill directly or indirectly, on a pro-rata basis. You'll find that the schedule of bounties for attached civilians is significantly higher than that of military personnel."

"As an official United States Army Indian scout," added Danny Anderson, "you will be a.s.signed to General Tirelli's staff, and you will be required to perform whatever duties she may require of you. Your first a.s.signment will be to accompany her on Operation Nightmare and apply your expertise with the Chtorran infestation toward the successful conclusion of this mission."

Wallachstein added, "Officially, of course, you will no longer be an active part of the Special Forces, nor will you be privy to the Special Forces data network. You will, however, become part of the Uncle Ira operation, and you'll find that the quality of information available to you as a Double-Q Red is much more interesting.

"The important thing is that this will also remove you entirely from General Wainright's chain of command. In fact, it will remove you from everybody else's chain of command too. You won't be giving any more orders-only advice. You won't be allowed to lead any military operations either. You might find that a little frustrating. But if you'll check out section thirteen, you'll see that the United States Army retains the option of reactivating your commission at some unspecified time in the future. If necessary."

"In other words, I can be drafted twice-I thought the law didn't allow double jeopardy."

Wallachstein shrugged. "We're leaving the door open, in case General Wainright drops dead. Someday it might be useful to put you back on the. main track. Will you sign the papers, please?"

"What if I refuse? What if I decide to fight Dannenfelser's charges?"

"Then I'll have to order General Anderson to place you under immediate military arrest, remove you from this vessel, and turn you over to the proper authorities as soon as we return to Houston. Any other questions?" Wallachstein gave me a bland blue-eyed stare.

I.

recognized the expression; it was the don't-bother-asking-any-more-questions, the-answer-will-be-no expression.

I made a noise of annoyance and signed the papers anyway. Lizard witnessed them. Danny Anderson notarized them. Uncle Ira took them, folded them up quickly, and stuffed them into a pocket inside his jumpsuit. Danny Anderson said, "Your ID card too, please?" I handed it across, and he slipped it into the slot of his clipboard.

He thumbed in a command, waited two seconds, then pa.s.sed it back to me. I glanced at it without curiosity. Where my rank had been listed, the notation retired had been added, followed by civilian attached specialist; several of the military validations also looked different. The validation number on its face changed as I glanced at it; the number would cycle through random changes forever. The card could be counterfeited, but not the program contained within its chip. I slipped the card back into the transparent slot on the front of my s.h.i.+rt pocket.

Uncle Ira stepped forward then and shook my hand. "Congratulations. You are now free to be as big an a.s.shole as you want without endangering the careers of anybody else around you. Their lives, however, you can still endanger, so do please be careful."

Danny Anderson shook my hand too-despite his apparent physical strength, his grip was surprisingly gentle. "Congratulations." His tone was mordant and not particularly warm.

Lizard just sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose tiredly.

"What?" asked Wallachstein.

"If we could only be this clever acting against the worms," she said, "we wouldn't have to be this clever acting against our own army."

Wallachstein's expression hardened. "You would have to get serious, wouldn't you?"

"Sorry. It's been a long war. I'm tired."

Uncle Ira nodded knowledgeably. He stepped forward and put both his hands on Lizard's shoulders. For a moment, he looked almost fatherly. "Yes, I did it for McCarthy," he said softly, "but I also did it for you. Tell me that you're happy."

She blinked back tears. "We're pregnant," she said. "I'm very happy."

"Good. I'm glad." Uncle Ira took her into his arms then and kissed her gently, then hugged her tightly, then looked her in the eyes again, and then kissed her a second time. "You take care of yourself, and you take care of the baby, and when you get back to Houston, we'll see about your transfer to Luna. Him too, if you insist." He nodded in my direction.

"Yeah, him too," Lizard said. "I'm starting to get fond of him."

Danny Anderson tapped Uncle Ira on the shoulder then. "My turn." He swept Lizard into his arms like a long-lost brother, leaned her back over his forearm and kissed her like no brother ever kissed his sister. When they finally surfaced for air, Lizard was red in the face and breathless. "Gee, Danny," she blushed. "If I had known you could kiss like that-" She stopped herself, unable to finish the sentence.

She looked genuinely amazed as she gave him the once-over; up and down. "What a waste."

"Yeah," he grinned lasciviously. "It's times like this I wish I were a lesbian."

They both laughed then and fell into each other's arms for one more hug. This time when they broke apart, Danny turned to me. Somehow he looked taller than ever. "Take good care of yourself." He clapped me once on the shoulder, then said to Wallachstein, "We're out of time. Zymph will be angry if we keep her waiting."

Wallachstein started to step past me, then stopped. For a moment, he looked like he didn't know what to say. Finally, he didn't say anything. He just put his hand sadly on my head and rumpled my hair briefly. "Take care of her, Jim. Or I'll kill you."

And then he followed Danny Anderson aftward to the service exit.

I turned back to Lizard. We looked across the intervening s.p.a.ce at each other.

"Goodness," I said. "People come and go in the strangest ways around here."

"Hot Seat," April 3rd broadcast: (cont'd) ROBISON:... Okay, tell us about your plan for victory. But I've gotta warn you. I don't know how much more of this c.r.a.p I can take before my gorge becomes buoyant.

FOREMAN: Don't pretend to be a bigger fool than you already are, John. You know the facts as well as anybody. The largest military effort in human history is directed at controlling and containing the Chtorran infestation here on Earth. We're constantly rethinking our military procedures. The worms are adapting. So are we.

We've discovered that a frontal military a.s.sault on a Chtorran camp is an ineffective investment of our energies. You've seen the pictures of the Rocky Mountain blast site. It's coming back crimson. Our Terran species can't compete on bare ground.

As satisfying as it might be to nuke every worm camp on the planet-and we certainly have the weapons to do so-in the long run, it would be a terrible mistake. We'd only be clearing the ground for the next generation of the infestation.

ROBISON: Yeah? So, what are. we doing instead? Worm fences? A little Styrofoam and soe razor-ribbon. And you call that a plan-?

FOREMAN: I thought you said you did your research, John ROBISON: Polymer-aerogels? Do you really think that a little bit of silicon aerosol is going to stop a worm?

FOREMAN: As a matter of fact, we've seen it work. We've laid down great fields of the stuff. Aerogel is made of gla.s.s and sand, so it's cheap to manufacture. We can just about do it on-site. It's the least-dense solid ever made, so we get a lot of coverage for a very small investment of ma.s.s, and it's one hundred percent operational one hundred percent of the time. It's the perfect worm-fence, because a worm can't see it, can't feel it, can't smell it, can't taste it; there's absolutely no way a worm can detect it. To a human it looks like very faint smoke or haze lying on the ground; but to the worms it's completely invisible-it has something to do with the way their eyes work. They blunder right into it. They just keep moving forward.

There's almost no sensation to the stuff, so the worm doesn't even know it's there until it's too late. And the stuff is amazing, John. It's as tenacious as it is light. Before the worm knows what's happening, there's this invisible wall on all sides. No matter which direction the creature pushes, the tangle of resistance just keeps getting thicker and thicker as more and more of the threads wrap up around it. The worm's own movements pull the threads around and around itself like a giant spider web. The more it moves, the more it gets wrapped. All those long threads of aerogel have an incredible amount of c.u.mulative inertia. The poor worm can't even eat its way out; the stuff clogs its mouth, its teeth, its whole digestive system. This stuff can immobilize a worm in minutes. It just rolls in and closes up. Even staying perfectly still doesn't work. After the threads have been disturbed, they contract, they pull, they stretch. They stick. There's no escape. Any worm who tries to push through this stuff is going to be webbed. No other worm can get in-not to help, not to rescue, not even to communicate-without also being caught; so there's not even a way for the word to spread among them that this kind of trap exists.

FOREMAN: (continuing after commercial) Right now we can manufacture aerogel with a half-life as short as a week or as long as three years. We can spray a wall of this stuff around a city, or we can set traps in the thickest parts of a worm infestation. It's nontoxic and biodegradable, so you can use it anywhere. The j.a.panese love the stuff. They've been using it to create a whole new industry: worm farming. Chtorran oil. Chtorran sus.h.i.+. Chtorran hides. It's a growth industry on the Asian mainland. See, that's the kind of solution that human beings are good at.

ROBISON: (unconvinced) Foamed smoke? You're telling me that foamed smoke is going to save us?

FOREMAN: Save you? No. It's going to take a lot more than foam to save you, John. I think it would take at least an industrial-strength miracle. But as for the rest of us? Yes. The United Nations Control Agency has already authorized the division of the planet into ecological zones, with aerogel barriers installed everywhere. What we ultimately intend to do is put down aerogel barriers around every major infestation as fast as we can identify them. This, we expect, will stop or at least slow down, the growth of the infested areas. If we can isolate the reservoirs of infection, we will have won a major victory...

Once it is airborne, the manna spore begins to unravel into long gossamer strands, slightly sticky, and very fragile-even more delicate than spider silk. The threads of an unraveled spore may be several centimeters long.

As the threads move through the air, they will brush against the threads of other unraveled spores, and they will stick together. Eventually, cl.u.s.ters of manna threads will become large enough to be visible to the naked eye as pale pink smudges drifting before the wind.

If the release of spores has been great enough, the cl.u.s.ters of manna threads will continue to acc.u.mulate in size and ma.s.s. They may become quite large and will even take on the appearance and color of fluffs of cotton candy; hence the popular designation, the "cotton candy" plant.

-The Red Book, (Release 22.19A)

Chapter 40.