Web of Fire Bind-up

by Steve Voake

  Sam saw sadness in her eyes and asked: ‘Did you succeed?’

  ‘No,’ replied Alya. ‘The more I found out about the world, the more I found out how complex the puzzle really was. I soon realised that the most I could hope for was that I might solve the tiniest part of it. So I decided I would just concentrate on one small part of the puzzle and become an expert in that field. I thought that by becoming the best, I would finally be someone. I believed that through hard work and achievement, I would be happy.’

  A silence fell between them for a while and Sam stared at the young woman with a growing sense of fascination. It was as if in telling him these deeply personal thoughts, she was hearing them herself for the first time. From the look in her eyes he felt certain that she had never spoken of these things before – perhaps had never even acknowledged them in her own mind until now. But why was she telling him?

  ‘Did it make you happy?’ he asked.

  ‘No,’ said Alya. ‘For years I convinced myself that everything was OK, but underneath it all I was beginning to have serious doubts about the work I was doing. I sensed that I was shutting my eyes to some unpleasant truths. The past few days have finally opened my eyes.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I realised that all the things I worked so hard to achieve were not solving the puzzle at all – instead they were helping to destroy an irreplaceable part of it.’

  Somewhere outside in the corridor, Sam heard the guard clear his throat and spit.

  ‘What’s all this got to do with me?’ he asked.

  ‘While I was waiting for them to bring you in the other day, I was expecting to see a monster. But when I looked into your eyes, I saw something quite different – something I haven’t seen in a long time.’

  ‘What was that?’ asked Sam.

  Alya smiled sadly. ‘It was goodness,’ she said. ‘The moment I saw you I knew that you could never have done any of the terrible things they were accusing you of.’

  Sam looked closely at the young woman standing opposite him in the stark light of a single bulb and wondered at this strange turn of events. Although still unsure whether he should trust her, he was finding it increasingly difficult not to. Could she be his guiding light, the one who would lead him out of the darkness? It was almost too much to hope for.

  Alya reached out and touched his arm. ‘I mean it,’ she said. ‘You are a good person, Sam. And I realised last night that if I want anything at all in this life, it’s to be a good person too.’

  ‘But what happened to make you so sure about all of this?’

  Alya quickly checked the door again before continuing.

  ‘Two days ago, I learned how to read the minds of parasitic worms,’ she said. ‘I learned how to understand their language. And now I can make them do whatever I want them to do.’

  ‘What?’ said Sam. ‘You’ve lost me completely.’

  ‘Forget the details,’ said Alya. ‘The important thing is that – because of what I’ve done – the Vermian Empire can now influence human behaviour in a way that will probably lead to their extinction. And knowing what I know now, I don’t want that to happen.’

  ‘Sounds as though you’ve left it a bit late,’ said Sam.

  ‘There’s still time,’ replied Alya. ‘But not much. That’s where you come in. I need your help.’

  ‘I thought you were here to help me,’ said Sam sceptically.

  ‘I am,’ said Alya. ‘But in order to help you, I need you to help me first.’

  ‘Look at me,’ said Sam. ‘Just look at me for a minute. I’ve got one eye closed and I can hardly stand up. How can I possibly be of any help to you?’

  ‘Simple,’ said Alya, ‘just tell me where the Resistance base is. Tell me where your friends are hiding out.’

  Sam smiled, a bitter, joyless smile.

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ he said coldly.

  When Alya spoke again, there was a new urgency in her voice.

  ‘Please,’ she said. ‘Think about it for a minute. Vermian forces are only weeks – maybe days – away from destroying every human being on Earth. There’s no way I can possibly stop them on my own. But if I can get in touch with your friends I can give them information which might help them disrupt any attack on Earth, or at least delay it for a while. But I need you to tell me where I can find them.’

  Sam shook his head.

  ‘But if I tell you and you’re lying, then my friends will die.’

  Alya nodded. ‘I know, Sam. But if you don’t, then millions will die. You have to tell me.’

  Sam was silent for a long while. He knew there was a very real possibility that this woman had been sent to trick him, but there was something about her that seemed genuine. Either she was extremely clever, or she was telling the truth. It was a terrible decision to make, but Sam knew that, one way or the other, he had to make it. Very slowly, he put a hand on the back of Alya’s head and pulled her face close so that her cheek was touching his own. ‘All right,’ he whispered, ‘I’ll tell you. But if anything happens to them, I swear I’ll come looking for you. Do you understand me?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Alya, her serious brown eyes fixed for a moment upon his own. ‘I understand.’

  Twenty-one

  Joey Pestralis had been running his pest control business for less than eighteen months, but already his annual turnover was close to a hundred thousand dollars. In fact he’d had to take on Bobby Morgan simply to cope with the demand. Sure, he paid the kid one fifty a week, but when you were making eight grand a month it was peanuts.

  ‘Hear that buzzing sound, Bobby?’ he’d say as they unpacked their gear beneath a nest of angry yellow-jackets. ‘That’s the sound of dollar bills, flying into our pockets.’

  Bobby would laugh that goofy laugh of his and then the two of them would get on with the job of spraying their way to another few hundred bucks.

  Joey’s mum had been heartbroken when he dropped out of school two years ago. She said she’d wasted all her money paying for a college education. But she changed her tune soon enough when he turned up with a brand new fridge and plasma TV screen.

  ‘I’m so proud of you, Joey,’ she said, holding his face and kissing him on both cheeks. ‘Making your way in this world all by yourself.’ He’d stuck the screen on the wall and she’d curled up happily on the couch with her fist in a bucket of popcorn, watching her favourite soaps.

  ‘What’d I tell you, Ma?’ he said. ‘Your Joey’s going places.’

  And he certainly was. In fact, the place he was going this afternoon was a big step in the right direction. A leap in the right direction, actually. If this contract came off, he could take a fortnight’s vacation in Hawaii.

  Joey pulled the truck into a dusty lay-by and turned to look at Bobby who was staring at the map.

  ‘Are you sure this is right, Bobby? I can’t see nothin’ but dirt and telegraph poles.’

  Bobby shrugged and handed him the map.

  ‘Take a look for yourself. Far as I can see, this is the only road coming off the main one. And look. There’s the quarry. See?’

  Joey peered out of his side window and looked at the two hundred metre drop down to the stones below. He took the map and smoothed it across his knee, paying particular attention to the part with the red circle drawn around it. U.S. Government Facility it said. Restricted Access. Bobby was right. The map showed it at the end of a dirt track with a quarry marked over on the left-hand side.

  ‘Hell, Bobby,’ he said. ‘We’re in the back end of beyond. Guess it keeps their army boys out of trouble, though. Nearest bar must be miles away.’

  Ten minutes later, the truck rumbled to a halt outside a three-metre-high fence with razor wire strung across the top. A soldier in combat fatigues strolled out from his guard post, a rifle slung over one shoulder and a clipboard in his hand.

  ‘Can I help you, sir?’ he asked, crouching down level with Joey’s open window.

  Joey smiled. �
�Reckon it might be the other way round,’ he said, winking at Bobby. ‘I’m here to solve your little insect problem.’

  The man nodded and checked the sheet on his clipboard. Joey noticed that his face was covered in angry red bites.

  ‘You Pestralis Pest Control?’

  Joey jerked a thumb backwards.

  ‘You’d better believe it. Leastways, that’s what it says on the truck.’

  The soldier glanced at the side panel where a cartoon picture showed a fly with its tongue hanging out, being struck over the head by a mallet. Above it were the letters: PPC and beneath it the words: Bug-free Zone.

  ‘Got any ID?’

  Joey fished out the authorisation letter from his top pocket and handed it through the window.

  ‘OK.’ The soldier pointed beyond the barrier to a cluster of buildings in the distance. ‘See where those cars are parked? Report to the CO there. He’ll bring you up to speed on the situation.’

  Joey nodded and slotted the gear lever into first, waiting for the barrier to rise.

  ‘Between you and me, Buddy,’ said the soldier as the barrier slowly jerked into life, ‘I’d say you’re gonna have your work cut out here today.’

  ‘Well, Buddy,’ grinned Joey, rubbing his finger and thumb together, ‘between you and me, that’s just the way I like it.’

  Joey had once considered joining the military himself, but getting up early had never really been his thing. His first thought, upon meeting the Commanding Officer, was that he looked as though he could use a couple more hours sleep himself. Looking at the bites on his face and neck, Joey decided that the guy could do with a decent bug screen too. Maybe he’d flog him a set or two before the day was out.

  ‘Glad you could make it,’ said the CO, extending a hand towards him. ‘My name’s Colonel Jackson.’

  ‘Joey Pestralis,’ said Joey, shaking his hand. ‘And this here’s Bobby Morgan.’ He smiled and then added: ‘My second-in-command.’

  ‘Good to meet you,’ said the Colonel. ‘Please. Take a seat.’ He took off his cap, threw it on the desk and began to scratch at a red lump on the side of his head. ‘As you can see, we’re having a bit of a problem with insects here at the moment.’

  ‘Well, that’s what we’re here for, Colonel.’ Joey leaned back and folded his arms. ‘Can I ask what kind of problem?’

  ‘Flies,’ said the Colonel. ‘Hundreds of the darn things. Thousands, actually.’

  ‘Inside you mean?’

  ‘Some. But no – outside, mainly.’

  Joey shrugged. ‘Well it is summer, I guess.’ He didn’t want to do himself out of a job, but there wasn’t a whole lot he could do about flies buzzing around in the great outdoors.

  ‘Yeah, but you see, this isn’t normal. Take a look at this.’

  The Colonel unbuttoned his cuffs and pushed up his sleeves to reveal a mass of red lumps which extended from his wrists to his elbows.

  ‘Let me see those.’

  Joey leaned forward and took a closer look.

  ‘Wow,’ he said. ‘Insects did that?’

  The Colonel nodded and buttoned his cuffs again. ‘Now you can see what we’re up against. These things just come out of nowhere. Whole swarms of ’em biting chunks out of us. We’re getting pretty sick of it, I can tell you. Do you think you can help?’

  Joey thumbed his nose. ‘Yeah, I’m sure we can do something. But tell me, how big are these flies?’

  The Colonel frowned. ‘Well, let me see. They’re not tiny, that’s for sure.’ He held up his finger and thumb and framed a couple of centimetres between them. ‘I’d say they were about… so big. Vicious little critters they are, too.’

  Joey nodded thoughtfully.

  ‘Colour?’

  ‘Not sure exactly. Black, maybe, or brown?’

  ‘OK. We’ll check ’em out later. But we’re probably looking at some kind of horsefly. The American possibly, or maybe the three-spot.’

  ‘Horseflies. Really?’

  ‘That’d be my guess at this stage, Colonel. Aggressive attacks and vicious bites are all characteristic of that particular insect.’

  ‘But I don’t get it. We’ve been on this base for years and never had this problem before. What do you think’s causing it?’

  Joey shrugged. ‘Could be any number of things. Maybe some local farmer’s moved his cattle out and left the flies without their usual food source. Or maybe it’s just down to climate change. Impossible to say, really. But I’ve got something in the truck which will help you keep their numbers down. What do you say we go set it up?’

  ‘Sure,’ said the Colonel. ‘Set up a million if they’ll get rid of the damn things.’

  Half an hour later, the Colonel stood in the middle of the compound looking at one of the strangest contraptions he had ever seen. Four plastic legs supported what appeared to be a medium-sized shiny black football. Fixed above the football was a pyramid of netting leading up to the neck of a large plastic bottle.

  ‘What the hell is that?’ he asked.

  ‘It’s a horsefly trap,’ replied Joey proudly. ‘What do you think? I designed it myself.’

  The Colonel walked around it, examining it carefully.

  ‘Well, I guess you boys know what you’re doing. How does it work?’

  ‘Simple really. Horseflies are attracted by shape, temperature and dark colours. So when the black ball heats up in the sun, the horsefly sees a warm head above four legs and thinks: ‘Horse’. So it flies over, lands on the ball and climbs up looking for a place to bite. But when it gets to the top, it realises it’s made a mistake. Then, attracted by the light, it flies up into the bottle where the heat of the sun kills it.’

  The Colonel nodded approvingly. ‘Very clever,’ he said. ‘But does it work?’

  ‘Are you kidding? I’m telling you, Colonel, I’ve been to farms in high summer where they’re catching sixty or seventy flies a day.’

  ‘Sounds good to me,’ said the Colonel. ‘It’s about time we evened up the score. You boys fancy a beer while you’re waiting?’

  ‘You bet,’ said Bobby who generally let Joey do the talking, but knew that important matters demanded an individual response. ‘Got any potato chips?’

  The sun was fierce as the three of them stood around the trap in the heat of the afternoon, watching two large black flies buzzing around in the bottle. A third fly was busy crawling over the surface of the ball, making its way to the top.

  ‘There you go,’ said Joey. ‘That’s your problem right there. Three-spot horse flies. See those white patches on their backs? That’s where they get their name from.’

  The Colonel bent down and peered into the bottle. Then he turned to Joey and shook his head.

  ‘That ain’t them,’ he said.

  ‘What?’ said Joey. ‘Are you sure?’

  The Colonel crouched down and took a closer look.

  ‘No,’ he said. ‘These are too big. Now I come to think about it, the ones we had were smaller and lighter coloured. More brown than black.’

  Joey looked at the Colonel doubtfully. To most people, a fly was just a fly. But to Joey it was the enemy and so he had made it his business to find out everything about them. As far as he could tell, the only kind of fly that fitted the bill in this case was the one buzzing around in the bottle, right there in front of him. But Joey decided to be patient. After all, time was money and he happened to know that money was something the US Government had in plentiful supply. It didn’t take a genius to work out that the longer this job took, the more of it would end up in his pocket.

  ‘Hmm,’ he said, scratching his head. ‘OK, Colonel. In that case I think perhaps we’d better stick around for a while. See what else we can find.’

  ‘Well, Bob,’ said Joey as they sat out on the steps of the CO’s office, sipping cold beer and watching the sun go down. ‘I don’t know about you, but I reckon I could get used to this.’ He grinned, clinked his bottle against Bobby’s and took another swig. ‘Sure as hell
beats working for a living.’

  Bobby grinned and nodded. ‘Don’t it ever,’ he said.

  Suddenly, his hand twitched and he dropped the bottle with a cry of pain.

  ‘Ow!’ he shouted. ‘God-dammit!’

  ‘What is it, Bobby?’ asked Joey. ‘What’s up?’

  Bobby rubbed his hand furiously.

  ‘Something just bit me,’ he said. Then he yelped, slapped his neck and swore. ‘Hey! What the hell’s going on?’

  ‘Here,’ said Joey. ‘Let me take a look.’

  He was just reaching out for Bobby’s hand when there was a loud buzz in his ear followed by a sharp, stinging sensation on his cheek. As he reached up to touch it, a cloud of flies suddenly descended upon them in a thick swarm. Bobby screamed and Joey felt himself being bitten viciously on his neck, face and arms.

  ‘Get inside, Bobby!’ he shouted, crouching down and slapping at the flies as they dived aggressively again and again to deliver their painful bites. ‘Get inside now!’

  As Bobby ran for cover, Joey gritted his teeth and slammed the flat of his hand down on one of the yellowy-brown flies that had latched itself onto his forearm. Then, squeezing it tightly as though his life depended upon it, he put his head down, let out an anguished cry like a warrior going into battle and ran quickly up the steps toward the shelter of the building.

  ‘See?’ said the Colonel, ‘what’d I tell you? It’s brown.’

  ‘More like yellow,’ said Bobby, rubbing at the bites on his face that had swollen into angry red weals. ‘Did you see those little devils? They jus’ went ape-crazy for us.’

  Joey leaned forward and stared at the squashed, misshapen fly that he had deposited on the smooth surface of the Colonel’s desk. Although he had pretty well flattened it, the sharp blood-sucking mouthparts were easily identifiable.

  ‘You want to know the weirdest thing?’ asked the Colonel. ‘There were fifteen or twenty men around when you were attacked just now. But this time, not a single one of them was bitten. It was as though the flies were just after you two.’