A Season for Slaughter watc-4

by David Gerrold

  Shaun looked like a small boy visiting a military base for the first time; his eyes were filled with awe and wonder. "You guys, all of you, you're our special guests. You're not just customers, you're the people who are going to win the war for us. So if there's anything we can do to put you at your best, then we're helping to win the war too. This is our part of the victory. Taking care of you. It's a privilege for us to do that."

  Despite myself, I was touched. And despite myself, I was skeptical too.

  Part of me was saying that Shaun's speech was a very clever act. I'd just seen one more part of the service provided by the company. Everything here was part of the fantasy that you are special. That's what the company was really selling. Not just long peaceful air cruises, but powerful emotional restoratives.

  Even so… even knowing what I knew, I wanted to believe it anyway. I wanted to let go and swim in the soft sea of luxury. And, what the hell did it matter if I believed or not? Even if I knew it was fake, it was still true. Shaun's job was to take care of me so I could help win the war.

  And then I had to laugh at myself. Even when it's true, I don't believe it. And then I stopped laughing-the assumption here was that I could help win the war. And that wasn't necessarily a valid assumption. Nobody even knew if the war was winnable anymore. But…

  I looked across at Shaun. He was still waiting for my reply. I reached out to tousle his hair, then at the last moment realized that was something a man did to a boy. Instead, I put my hand on his shoulder and patted him gently. "Y'know something. I can't remember the last time somebody told me he just wanted to make me happy. At least, not without a hidden agenda. It's been a long time." I shrugged and accepted the circumstance. "Thanks. I promise I'll do my best to be as comfortable as I can. If you see me tensing up, hit me with a club and give me your ten best suggestions for getting happy again, okay?"

  He grinned happily. "Yes, sir!" And threw me the sharpest salute I'd ever seen.

  What the hell. I saluted back. I felt silly as hell doing it, but what the hell. At least his was the most honest salute I'd ever received.

  Before the Chtorran plagues could be initiated into the human population, before any agent of transmission could begin the job of infection, a reservoir of disease germs had to be established for those agents to draw upon.

  The process of infection requires—demands—a reservoir. Some host mechanism must first be present in which the disease-causing agent can exist indefinitely. The process of transmission and infection cannot occur without a biological partner providing storage and reproduction facilities for the germs.

  If we are to accurately establish the method of Chtorran colonization, it is essential that we identify that reservoir of infection. Where-or what-is it?

  —The Red Book,

  (Release 22.19A)

  Chapter 32

  The Long Briefing

  "The only acceptable substitute for brains is silence."

  -SOLOMON SHORT

  General Tirelli entered the room from the back. She didn't even glance at me; she just strode forward down the center aisle and up onto the dais. Several tugboats followed in her wake; that was what I called the inevitable troop of aides and assistants who followed every command-level officer. I'd made it a personal hobby to gauge the styles of the different tugboats as they delicately maneuvered various high officials into position, setting up microphones, cameras, briefing books, pens, notepads, and water pitchers. What I liked about Lizard was the way she brushed the tugboats impatiently aside and got immediately down to business. I noticed that Dwan Grodin, the electric potato, was sitting quietly in the front row of chairs.

  "Would you all please be seated?" Lizard asked loudly. She waited with visible impatience. I thought about grabbing a chair, they looked comfortable. I'd sluiced away as much of Mexico as could be scrubbed off my skin, put on clean underwear and a neutral jumpsuit, and felt a lot better physically than I had in days; but I was still feeling surly. Mostly about Lizard right now. I didn't like the way she'd brushed by me so coldly. So I ignored her request and decided to stand instead. I drifted over to the back of the room and positioned myself right next to the exit. I folded my arms against my chest and leaned nonchalantly, but deliberately, against the wall-and thought about my promise to Uncle Ira. This wasn't going to be an easy one to keep.

  I studied the twelve-man combat team just filling up the last row of chairs. They'd been assigned to the mission at my recommendation, despite protests from the Science Section that the space could better be used for twelve more scientists. Furthermore, the weight allowance for all that heavy military gear could be better used for more probes and monitoring equipment. Lizard had backed me up on the need for a security squad, and that had been that. But this wasn't the team I had picked. I had picked a squad of battle-hardened veterans, men and women I'd worked with. The troops I had picked looked like they'd been chiseled out of a rough stone cliff. These soldiers were children. They were tall, they were broad-shouldered and straight-backed, they had great posture. You could use them for doorposts. They were all annoyingly clean and bright and attentive; but the only thing chiseled about them was their cheekbones.

  To the untrained eye, these kids might have looked like combat-ready troops-especially in comparison to all the flabby scientists around them, most of whom looked as if they had been sewn together out of big pink bags of jelly; but I knew better. This was somebody's drill team; they were here because they looked good. Maybe this was a reward for them; they'd been good and somebody decided that they deserved a vacation and bumped the muscled workhorses off the roster to favor the pampered thoroughbreds. These kids were too confident, too self-assured; they were big and strong and friendly-looking. That was the giveaway. They didn't have the narrow look of death in their eyes. They didn't have the right sense of spiritual exhaustion and mordant resignation, they didn't have the inner core of silent hardness. They were virgins. I hoped to God they wouldn't be needed for anything more strenuous than carrying luggage to the exit lobby. I wondered whose good idea this had been and why Lizard had let it happen.

  A six-meter projection screen dominated the forward wall of the main lounge. Lizard stood in front of it and looked out across the room. The lounge was arranged theater style, and every man and woman assigned to the mission was present. There were 180 of us. The Latin Americans were sending an additional team of 85 who would meet us in Amapa. My gut-level feeling was that we had too many scientists and assistants and not enough combat veterans. I knew that we weren't planning any drops, but… I also knew that accidents only happened when you didn't prepare for them.

  "Congratulations to you all. Operation Nightmare is officially underway-" Lizard began. She had to wait until the applause died down before she could continue. "We're exactly one year and one day late, but we're on our way. Dr. Zymph assured me before we left that the Chtorrans would still be there waiting for us, and all of our surveillance seems to bear out her prediction, so the trip won't be wasted." There were only a few polite chuckles. Stand-up comedy was not Lizard's forte, and she knew it. She took a paper out of her breast pocket. "I have a note here from the President. She says, 'General Tirelli, I don't have to tell you how important your work is. You and your dedicated team know that better than anyone. Know this, that you are traveling with the hopes of an entire planet. You carry with you the best equipment, the best information, and the finest support that the United States can provide. You also carry our most heartfelt hopes for a speedy and successful resolution of your work. I look forward to the opportunity to personally thank each and every one of you for a job well-done. You have my complete confidence, and you have the best wishes of the people of the Earth."' Lizard refolded the note and slipped it back into her pocket without comment.

  She continued brusquely. "We're carrying with us several observers from the Brazilian government-" She had to wait again until the applause died down. "I see that some of you have already met Dr. Julian Amador and Dr. Mari
a Rodriguez. It's an honor to have the both of you aboard. Let me also introduce Ambassador Jorje-Molinero, who will be traveling with us, acting as our host and our liaison, at least as far as Amapa, and he'll be reporting on our operation directly to his government, so please give him your utmost cooperation." That Ambassador Jorje-Molinero did not receive as warm a welcome as the two scientists did not go unnoticed. The strained relations between the North American Operations Authority and the Latin American Security Council were no secret; things had been especially tense since the liberation of South Mexico-and the Brazilians had been among the most vocal in their objections. As a result, Operation Nightmare was no longer simply a high-intensity surveillance operation. Now it carried a lot of political baggage; it was also an attempt to thaw out the frozen relations between two superpowers. Neither Ambassador Jorje-Molinero nor General Elizabeth Tirelli appeared particularly sanguine about the situation.

  Lizard cleared her throat and continued. "Dr. Oshi Hikaru, the Brazilian science minister, will be boarding at Amapa as our official liaison for the primary part of the operation." She hesitated as if considering how best to phrase her next statement, then plunged directly into it. "Some of you in this room have had some unfortunate experiences with individuals representing themselves as experts in the field-"

  That was an understatement; she could just as correctly have said that the Titanic had a rough crossing. Lizard's comment drew more than a few nods and smirks, and I wasn't the only one who snorted derisively. The only growth industry left on the planet was the bureaucracy of information specialists feeding on the Chtorran invasion.

  "Yes, we're aware of the problems that you've had elsewhere," Lizard acknowledged. "Let me just say this. This is not that kind of situation. The Brazilian government has invested a larger proportion of its available resources in the study of the Chtorran infestation than any other government on this planet. Their commitment to this operation in particular has been one of absolute dedication. You're going to find that the information that the Brazilian specialists have gathered-that they're continuing to gather even as we speak-is as complete and detailed as anyone could ask for. I'm sure that you're all going to be very pleasantly surprised when you sit down to speak with the scientific staff who will be joining us in Amapa. We are not starting from scratch here; please be aware of the tremendous job that our hosts have accomplished."

  She glanced over at the ambassador. His expression was stern and unforgiving. He looked like someone had ordered him to unruffle his feathers and he'd found the task very nearly impossible. Lizard turned her attention back to the rest of us. "I want to remind you all that this mission is a cooperative venture. We are here at the invitation of the Brazilian government. We are their guests. Please remember that in the way you conduct yourselves and your business. Please be good guests." She stressed her last words carefully. "Read. Your. Briefing. Books."

  She looked around at the various officers and scientists; as if checking her memory to see if she'd forgotten anything. No. Satisfied, she stepped over to the podium, broke the seal on her own briefing book and opened it flat before her. She barely glanced at the first page. "Now then, if you'll turn your attention to the screen behind me-" The inevitable map of the Amazon basin appeared. "We've had complete satellite observation over the three largest nodes of infestation for nearly two years now. Alpha target is here, just east of where the river Japura crosses from Colombia into Brazil; Beta is north of Coari, where the Carabinani pours into the basin; and Gamma is down here where the Rio Purus crosses eighty kilometers of wetlands. We've had skyballs, badgers, wasps, and spiders probing all three camps, and we've also sprayed with nanoprobes on four different occasions. We think we have a pretty good picture of each of the settlements. Dr. Silverstein's team has done a great job of mapping the targets; and Dr. Brown's group has done an equally fantastic piece of work cataloging the data, even to the point of identifying many of the individual specimens in each of the locations. Thank you all."

  She held up a hand, a signal that she was adding a personal aside. "As you know," she said quietly, "there are those who believe that electronic observation has been and will continue to be sufficient to our needs and that it is extremely unlikely that this operation will add any significant new knowledge to our understanding of the Chtorran infestation. Obviously, I don't agree with that. I doubt anybody else here subscribes to that view either. I think we're all here because our collective need to see this phenomenon firsthand and find out what's actually happening in these settlements outweighs our individual concerns for personal comfort and safety." There was a rustle of good-natured laughter at that.

  Lizard pretended not to hear it. She continued, keeping a straight face the whole time. "I know the sacrifices you've made to be here, the discomforts that you'll have to endure… and I can't think of a better demonstration of your commitment to the expansion of human knowledge than your presence aboard this ship, and I thank you for that." She looked over the room, allowing herself a gentle smile and a nodding appreciation of the elegance of our surroundings. Her gaze took in the rich paneled walls, the high gleaming ceilings, the magnificent chandeliers, the soft rugs and deep chairs, and by inference, all of the rest of the luxurious airship beyond these walls as well. She waited until the last of the good-natured laughter and applause died away.

  "Seriously," she added, speaking in a sterner tone now, the ironic twinkle vanishing from her eyes. "There is a risk here. I won't understate the danger. But I'm absolutely convinced that if we observe all of our safety precautions, this should not be a dangerous job. You've all been trained, you've all been extensively briefed on what the dangers are, I don't need to repeat the cautions. Let me just remind you again that there's no room for carelessness here. We're fragile. We're vulnerable. We're going to be a long way from help. But we shouldn't have any problems if we stay awake and pay close attention to what we're doing. All of us."

  She swept her gaze slowly across the room, as if she were meeting each person's eyes in turn. I waited for her to meet mine, but she swept on past, as if I had somehow turned invisible without my noticing. Gaddammit! I wanted to confront her. I thought you wanted me he-re!

  "All right," she said, turning the page of her briefing book. "Let's talk target. The Carabinani and Purus settlements are close enough to Coari that we're concerned about human influences on the camps. The Purus camp has also got the disadvantage of being very marshy. The Japura settlement is higher ground, but it's more than six hundred kilometers further inland. It's going to be harder getting in and harder getting out. I'll be honest about it; nobody wants to go to Japura. Captain Harbaugh says it's an extra day's travel each way and there isn't going to be any ground support available west of Manaus. Nevertheless-" She paused for effect and looked out across the room. We all knew what she was going to say. "Nevertheless… the Japura infestation is the oldest and largest of the three, and it has had the least contact with human beings. It appears to be the Chtorran equivalent of a city."

  She turned back to the podium just long enough to consult her notes, then hit the screen with her pointer again. "All right, I'm about to discuss some things that are of a delicate nature. For the moment, I want you to put aside any feelings you may have about international relations and concentrate on the information presented." As she said this last, she was looking directly at Ambassador Molinero. The ambassador's expression remained unreadable.

  "The Colombian government shared this information with us only very recently, and it's with their permission that I reveal it here. I hope you'll appreciate the importance with which they regard this matter, and the trust implied by their candor. They have been launching observation flights from Yuana Moloco, sending them across the border to overfly the Japuran infestation. Apparently the gastropedes have been foraging rather heavily to the west. Some of the Japuran worms have been sighted nearly a hundred kilometers into Colombian territory, and the Colombian government is quite concerned about the Indian t
ribes in the region.

  "This in itself is not cause for immediate alarm, but the overflights have revealed a human presence in the Japuran infestation, demonstrating that the Chtorrans are not simply capturing humans for food; they've found a way to subjugate them and use them as slaves. We've suspected it for some time. Now we're almost certain of it."

  Lizard paused to let the impact of this news be felt in the room. I looked around to see how others were reacting. They looked like they'd been slapped. Their faces were ashen. Some of them simply stared at the floor. The rest looked to her for relief, but she only nodded in grim confirmation.

  "As most of you know," she continued, "we first observed a human presence in a major Chtorran settlement a year and a half ago, in the Rocky Mountain area. That infestation was terminated by the application of two nuclear devices. We have maintained close surveillance of the area ever since, watching to see if the gastropedes will attempt to recolonize, and if so, how rapidly the process occurs. The nuclear option still remains on the menu.

  "The human presence in the Rocky Mountain infestation was assumed to be voluntary. The photographic evidence suggested that we were dealing with a tribe of renegades who had somehow learned to cooperate with the Chtorrans and live among them as symbiotic partners. It was that fact which allowed us to justify the use of nuclear devices.

  "Unfortunately, we cannot make the same assumption about the human presence in the Japuran settlement, and in any case"-here she threw another look to the ambassador-" the Brazilian government and the Latin American Security Council both remain adamantly opposed to the use of thermonuclear devices as a controlling agent. So that particular issue is not our concern. Any change in that policy is not going to be decided here, or by us. However, our recommendations at the conclusion of this mission will carry considerable weight for both the North American Operations Authority and the Latin American Security Council, so please keep that in mind."