I wondered-where were the eggs that Duke had seen? Probably down one of the openings. There were three of them spaced equidistantly around the sides of the dome. The largest was against the inner side of the spirit wall. The other two holes were against the outer walls of the dome.
I inspected the largest hole first. I shone the flashbeam down it, but it was only another room like this one, and apparently just as empty. The overripe stench was particularly strong here; I decided not to climb down. Besides, there didn't look to be an easy way to climb back up.
The next hole was some kind of a well. It just went straight down and disappeared in blackness. A toilet, perhaps? Could have been; it smelled like it. I didn't know-what kind of droppings did Chtorrans leave? I was beginning to realize all the things I should have known, but didn't.
The last hole was the one with the eggs.
The hole was against the back wall and it was full of them. They were shiny things, each about the size of a tennis ball, deep red but bathed in a milky white ooze that made them look pearlescent. There must have been hundreds of them-how deep was the hole? It was almost perfectly circular and about two meters wide; it seemed to be as deep as the others, but the level of eggs was almost close enough to touch.
So I did something stupid.
I laid down the torch. I unbuckled the tanks and took them off. Then I sat down on the floor and lowered my feet into the hole and started to climb down.
I miscalculated though, and slipped. I dropped-squish!-into the eggs; it was like tumbling into oyster-flavored Jell-O. For an instant, I thought I was going to lose my footing and topple face first into them, but I caught myself against one wall. Then I thought I was going to be sick. My throat went tight, and I had to swallow quickly-and painfully-to keep from retching.
I was standing in a red and slimy-white mess up to my knees. Thankfully, these eggs were fairly recent. I don't think I could have stood it if I had found myself in embryonic Chtorrans. Carefully-I couldn't move too fast because of my unsure footing-I gathered up as many of the still intact eggs as I could reach, bagged them and stuffed them into my pouch. I tried to lean against the wall as much as possible. The feel of those eggs was ... uneasy.
I was shuddering when I finally braced my hands against each side and levered myself out of that hole. Those eggs were sticky, and they smelled like raw fish left out in the sun too long. If I never saw another one, it would still be too soon.
I was trembling violently as I shrugged back into the tank harness and picked up my torch again. Even if it had been only for a minute, that was still sixty seconds too long to be unarmed in a worm nest.
I looked around then for something else to take samples of. There was nothing. Just the walls and the globs of Chtorran chewing gum, and I already had samples of those. I inspected the other two holes again. The pungent smell from the center one seemed stronger, which surprised me-I should have been used to it by now-but otherwise there was nothing I hadn't seen.
I went out through the left-side passage. It was identical to the right.
Duke was standing there, waiting for me. He glanced at the mess on my legs, but didn't say anything. Instead, he gestured over his shoulder. "Go take a look in the corral. Larry's found something interesting."
I wasn't sure I wanted to. I remembered what had been in that enclosure a week ago. I nodded and kept moving.
The enclosure resembled a large frontier-type stockade about ten meters across, only circular. Its walls were nearly three meters high and slanted inward as if the whole were an incomplete dome. The material was the same as the nest, but thicker and darker. There were the same dark plants around the base-the ivy and the basil stuff. I bagged a couple of smaller ones as specimens; the basil was the one with the cloyingly sweet smell. The leaves of the ivy were waxy and had a sticky feeling to them.
There was no opening in the corral wall. Instead, a steep ramp leaned against the side and up beyond by an equal length; it was rough-hinged to seesaw down into the center. Larry was perched at the top. He waved when he saw me. "Come on up."
The ramp was steep, but ribbed horizontally. It was not quite a ladder and not quite stairs, but something of both. Even though I had to use my hands, the climb was easier than I expected.
"What do you make of that?" said Larry, pointing down inside.
I straightened carefully, making sure I had my balance before I looked. Even so, I was startled, and Larry had to grab my arm to steady me.
The interior of that stockade was a swarming mass of-insects. Or, if not insects, then something very much like them. They were large, most of them almost a half-meter long-although some were longer-and black and shiny. Their bodies were slender and jointed like metal-covered wire. Each was fringed with hundreds of flashing legs. They moved across the shadowed floor, twisting and whirling like an explosion of metal pieces.
"Centipedes," said Larry. "Giant centipedes."
"Millipedes," I corrected. "Thousand- leggers."
He shrugged; it was all the same to him. "You ever seen anything like that before?"
I shook my head. The floor of the corral was seething. The creatures were oblivious to each other. They raced back and forth across the dirt or curled into balls. They climbed over each other's bodies or just stood and twitched nervously. Or they explored the periphery-several of them were chewing methodically at the walls.
"Look, they're escaping," I said. Larry shook his head. "Watch."
I did so. One of the largest of the millipedes, nearly a meter long, seemed just on the verge of breaking through. He was almost directly under me and chewing with a vengeance; the sound was a sticky, vicious kind of crunching, like sizzling fat or grinding light bulbs. Abruptly he stopped and backed away. He waved his feelers about in confusion, then began to wander aimlessly-until he came to another section of wall. He tested it cautiously. After a moment, he began chewing again, though not as industriously as before.
"What happened?" I asked.
Larry pointed. "He broke through."
I looked closer. Where the millipede had been chewing was a tiny black hole. A dark, pitchy substance was oozing out of it. "This is a double wall," said Larry. "The inside is filled with something they don't like."
I nodded silently. Elsewhere around the edges, other millipedes were repeating the performance of the first one, and there were numerous other holes with hardened plugs of the same dried, pitchy substance to testify to the millipedes' persistence.
"I didn't know centipedes grew so big," said Larry.
"They don't," I answered, suddenly remembering something from my plague-aborted course in entomology. "And they don't have four antennae either. Their mouths aren't shaped like miniature garbage disposals, their eyes aren't so large and they aren't herbivorous-they shouldn't be eating those walls at all. These aren't millipedes."
Larry shrugged. "Well, if they're not, they'll do until the real thing comes along."
"I don't know what these are," I said. "I've never seen anything that even resembles them before. Real millipedes don't have as many legs or body sections. Look how they're segmented-and what are those humps behind the eyes? And what are they doing here?" I indicated the enclosure.
"Isn't it obvious? This is the Chtorran larder. They like their food fresh. They keep it in this corral until they're hungry. Look." He pointed again. "See that? Somebody was having a snack earlier.
I saw a pile of discarded shells and disjointed body sections. I repressed a shudder-these millipedes were nothing more than food for Chtorrans. They were live lunch from the planet Chtorr!
"Hey! These things are extraterrestrial too! The Chtorrans brought them! I've got to catch one!"
He stared at me. "Are you crazy-? Those things might be man-eaters."
"I doubt it," I said. "If they were, they wouldn't be chewing on wood." It sounded good to me.
"They might be poisonous-"
I shook my head again. "Herbivorous creatures never are; they don't n
eed it."
"How do you know they're only herbivorous? They might have a taste for meat as well."
That made me pause-but not for long. "There's only one way to find out. Help me down."
He set his jaw stubbornly. "No."
"Larry," I said, "this is every bit as important as burning worms. Anything we can find out about them will help us destroy them."
"I'm not going to help you get killed."
"Then I'll do it myself-" I took a step upward on the ramp; another one and I was beyond the wall; a third and it began to teeter precariously. Larry took a step back down to stop it.
"Look," I said to him, "somebody's got to do it."
He didn't answer, just took another step downward to counterbalance my weight. I stared at him until he looked away. I took another step up. One more and the ramp began to lower slowly on my side. I took another step and the rate of swing increased.
Larry started to move-too slowly. He said a word and gave up. He adjusted his position to keep the ramp from moving too fast. "Okay," he growled, "but if you get your legs chewed off, don't come running to me."
I grinned. "Thanks,"-then had to grab suddenly to keep from toppling off. The ramp kept swinging-Larry rose above me unhappily-till my end touched ground near the center of the corral with a thump. I found myself balanced in an awkward position and had to scramble around in order to climb down more easily-or up, if I had to. I looked down warily. A couple of the millipedes had already begun inspecting the foot of the ladder, and one of them had even begun to chew on it. But so far, none of them had made any attempt to climb out. If anything, most were moving away from it. Had they learned already to associate the lowering of the ramp with predatory Chtorrans? It seemed likely.
I swallowed and began climbing down. About a foot above the ground, I paused. I held my leg out carefully to see if they would jump or snap at it. One of them rose halfway up as if to sniff, but almost immediately lost interest. I waved my foot above another. He rose up too, and even grabbed hold; I flinched, but held still and waited as he flicked his antennae back and forth across the toe of my boot. After a second, he lost interest too and dropped away. I managed a weak grin and lowered my foot to the ground. "Well, that's one more giant step for mankind." I was breathing a little easier.
The millipedes showed no alarm at my presence. If one did come in contact with my shoes, he either turned away or climbed over them as if I were just one more bump in the landscape. Mostly, they ignored me.
I wondered if it would be safe to pick one of them up with my bare hands, or even with my gloves on. I poked one of the creatures with the tip of the torch and immediately it curled into a ball, showing only its shiny black shell. Okay, so maybe that established they were cowards, but they still had mouths like miniature scrap-metal processors-you know, the kind that can reduce a new Cadillac cruiser into assorted pellets of steel and plastic, none larger than an inch across. I decided to play it safe.
That was when I found out how ill-equipped my sample pouch really was. I didn't have anything to carry them in. A plastic bag? Uh uh, they could go through that in seconds; a creature that can chew its way through wood foam and wood chips isn't going to be stopped by anything less. I wished I'd had the foresight to bring some wire-based netting. Should I risk my canvas pouch? It didn't seem a good idea. I had no guarantee that a captured millipede would stay politely curled up all the way back to base or until I could find a proper cage for it.
I wondered-I was wearing a polymer-asbestoid liner between myself and the torch harness, also a shock vest. The vest alone should be enough-at least I hoped it would-so I began shrugging out of the tanks again.
"Hey!" called Larry. "What the hell are you doing?" "Taking a shower," I called back. Then, "Relax. I know what I'm doing."
He scowled doubtfully, but shut up and looked unhappy. I took off the liner and dropped it to the ground, then I pulled the tanks back on. Two of the millipedes explored the plastic-looking shirt without much curiosity, then wandered away. Good. I hoped that meant they'd found it inedible.
Quickly, I poked the three nearest specimens with the nozzle of the torch. They curled up obediently. I rolled them onto the asbestoid cloth, made a sack out of it and tied it at the top by looping the sleeves around and tying them in a hasty knot. My pouch was beginning to bulge like the belly of a pregnant hippo -and I must have looked every bit as proud. As a sample-collecting trip, this was turning into quite a bonanza. First the eggs; now the millipedes. For good measure, I added a piece of the enclosure wall and some of the pitchy substance that filled it, also a few of the discarded shells and body sections from the recent Chtorran snack.
Larry was visibly relieved when I began climbing out. I think the idea of a man going willingly into a Chtorran larder-even if only to look around-was too much for him. He waited until I was almost to the top and then shifted his weight to seesaw the ramp up from the center and down on the outside.
We climbed down together; it was wide enough for that. At the bottom, Larry looked at me with grudging respect. "I gotta admit," he said, "that took guts. I wouldn'ta done it. I don't like bugs of any kind."
I shrugged. "I was only doing my job."
"Well, I wouldn't trade with you," he said. This from the man who had gone into the dome first to see if there were worms inside. "Come on, let's go see if Duke has figured out where the worms are hiding-"
And then all hell broke loose.
There was a purple chirruping sound and a sudden cry. Larry went white and grabbed for his grenade belt. We heard the roar of a torch and from the other side of the nest puffed a gout of black smoke. I dropped my sample pouch and went charging after Larry.
I saw Shorty first. He had his legs braced firmly apart and was stabbing a finger of flame at something large and black and writhing. It was totally enveloped by the fire and smoke-the burning carcass of a worm!
I kept running-now I could see beyond the curve of the nest. There was another Chtorran there. I skidded and stopped in sheer horror-I had seen the pictures, yes, but they hadn't prepared me for the incredible size of the creature! It was huge! Nearly twice the length of a man, bright red and more than a meter thick at the head! Its eyes were black and lidless. It reared up into the air and waved its arms and made that chirruping sound again; its mouth was a flashing maw. "Chtorr!" it cried. "Chtorrrr! Chtorrrrrr!"
I was fumbling with the safety on my torch; the damn thing seemed frozen. I jerked at it unmercifully.
I glanced up, half expecting to see that crimson fright charging down on me-but no, it was still reared up in the air, half its length. Its fur was standing stiffly out from its body, revealing its skin of deep purple. Abruptly, it came back to ground and lowered its head; its eyes were like black searchlights fixed directly on me. I braced my legs as Shorty had shown me and steadied my flamer-damn! Larry was blocking my shot! He was just pulling the pin on a grenade.
The worm moved then. So did I, sliding sideways to catch it before it could bear down on Larry; he was closest. It turned toward him and streaked across the ground like hot lava, a flowing red silkiness. Stiff-armed he flung the grenade. It arced high-simultaneously, Shorty's flame flicked across that purple and red horror. It exploded in a tongue of orange-and then exploded again as the grenade shattered its writhing form.
There was another explosion in the distance, and then it was all over. Shorty cut off his flamer and its roar became a sigh, then faded out altogether, leaving only the sizzle of burning worm, the insistent crackle of its blackening flesh, and a smell like burning rubber.
Duke came stumbling through the smoke. "Anybody hurt over here?" He gave a wide berth to the still burning carcasses.
Shorty called back. "We're okay. I got 'em both easy." He grinned. "And Larry wasted a grenade."
Larry mock-scowled. "Well, I couldn't wait all day for you." To Duke: "Everybody all right on the other side?"
Duke nodded. "No problem. That worm never had a chance, but I was
worried when I saw the other two headed this way."
"Hell, boss, you oughta know better than that," Shorty boomed jovially. "Fact is, Jim here saw how well me and Larry were doing; he decided to take a nap."
Duke's eyes flickered over me. "He better not have," he muttered.
Shorty ignored it. "How big was the one you got?"
Duke shrugged. "About the same as these. Maybe a little bigger."
"How about that," Shorty said, directing it toward me. "We just burned two and a half tons of worm."
Duke said sourly, "We were almost caught by surprise." He turned to Larry. "I thought you said that dome was empty."
"Huh? It was-!" His face looked confused. "You saw that yourself!"
"I didn't inspect it all, Larry-I took your word for it. I only checked for eggs. It was your responsibility to check the other holes."
"I did!" Larry repeated. "They were empty! The Mobe tapes will confirm it!"
Duke narrowed his eyes. "Larry, those worms came charging out of that dome. I saw it myself."
"And I tell you that dome was empty-if it wasn't, you think I'd be standing here now?"
"I can confirm that," I said. They both looked at me. "Remember? I went into the dome too, and I poked my nose into everything. I didn't see any worms."
Duke closed his mouth. He studied his boots for a moment. "All right," he said. "Let's drop it for now." He turned and walked off.
Larry looked at me. "Thanks, kid."
"For what?" I said. "That dome was empty. Duke's gotta be wrong. The worms must have come from the woods."
"Uh uh," said Larry. "If Duke says he saw them come from the dome, then that's where they came from. There was something we missed, Jim-both of us. We haven't heard the end of this."
I shrugged and followed him. We passed between the two crackling worm carcasses toward where Duke and the others were gathering. Larry looked unhappy, so much so that I wanted to say something more to him, but Shorty caught my arm. "Leave him be, Jim. Let him work it out for himself. Larry's that way."
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