I thought I was through. I started to turn away; but abruptly, one more thought occurred to me. I turned back to her. "Y'know-" I added softly, "I thought I had something to offer to this mission. I earned the job of science officer. Instead I got footprints on my back. And yeah, I got mad. But Uncle Ira told me that you really did value my services and that you had a field promotion planned. Okay, yes, I was an idiot. A complete jerk. An asshole. I'm sure you can add a whole bunch of other names that I can't imagine; you always were better at swearing than I was. But I still thought I could make a valuable difference here. Now you're telling me that I can't even do that. So there really isn't any point in my staying."
The whole thing was getting very clear to me now. I faced her directly and spoke as evenly as I could. She met my gaze dispassionately.
"I always thought that you were the one person I could depend on, no matter what. I've depended on your strength and on your maturity and on your wisdom from the first day I met you. I admired you so much. I thought that you knew how to make everything work just the way it should. You were one of my role models, the way you handled yourself and the people around you. I wanted to be like you. And every time you spoke to me, I felt like I was being honored. And every time you told me I had done good, I felt like I'd been kissed by God. I'd have done anything for you. Not just because I love you, but because… just because you're you. And even after we started sleeping together-I was so fucking amazed. The more I knew you, the better you got. And the harder I had to work to keep up with you. To be worthy of you.
"And then you brought in Dwan Grodin, and I thought you had lost confidence in me. I can't tell you how hurt I was. I was so demolished that I blew it. I lost all control. Suddenly, I wasn't good enough for you anymore. I went into the bathroom and cried until I lost my lunch. I haven't cried like that since I don't know when.
"And then Uncle Ira, who was apparently suffering only a mild case of death, came back and explained that you hadn't lost faith in me, that you were just as angry as I was, and I realized just how completely stupid I had been. So, yes, I got on the plane thinking that maybe, just maybe, if you and I could sit down and talk to each other that maybe, just maybe, you might understand and forgive.
"Now here I am discovering that you don't want to understand, you don't want to listen, and you don't want to forgive. And after all my work trying to put myself back together, I'm being ripped apart all over again. And the one person I most need to talk to about this is you-and you're not here for me anymore. And I can't tell you how much this hurts."
"Are you done?" she asked quietly.
"Yes," I said.
"For someone who doesn't have anything to say, you sure have a lot to say." She shook her head sadly. "I'm sorry that you're hurting. This isn't easy for me either. I'm sorry, Jim. I tried, I really did. But we can't just keep putting the pieces back together over and over. It's the same thing every time. Having a relationship with you is like dancing with a time bomb."
She started talking in a voice so filled with fatigue and weariness that it hurt just to listen to her. "You think it's been hard for you?" Her face was drawn and haggard. "How do you think it's been for me. Every time you pull one of your stunts, everybody looks to me. They look at me in the cafeteria. In the hallways. In the briefings. I know what they're thinking. 'What does she see in him? How does she put up with it? Why can't she control him?' Every time you blow up, you call attention to yourself, and that calls attention to me. They all start wondering, 'Is she going to defend him again?' You're undermining my credibility. No. The damage is done. You've destroyed it. Everything I've worked so long to accomplish; my entire career-it's all in shambles, Jim."
Her words were like bricks; hard lumps of pain that she piled slowly, laboriously, one on top of another. I felt like that fellow in the Edgar Allan Poe story who was walled up alive. Only the bricks in this wall were the bricks of my own anguish.
"You've become a spoiled brat, because you know that Mama's always going to be there to pull your nuts out of the fire. But every time I do, I spend a little bit more of my credibility, and a little bit more, and a little bit more, until I don't have any credibility left anywhere. I don't have any more favors to call in. I'm bankrupt. I'm without authority. You've not only demolished yourself, Jim-you've brought me down with you. Do you know how badly you screwed up? We almost had Operation Nightmare canceled because you were the science officer. I had to agree to replace you. Only the fact that you wrote the briefing books on the infestation kept you from being jettisoned altogether.
"And the hell of it is that everybody knows it. There are no secrets anymore, Jim. You're an open book. You and I-we're a goddamn soap opera. Everybody talks about us. I hate that. I don't want people knowing the details of my private life. I don't want people knowing who I sleep with or when or what we do in bed. I don't want everyone peeking over my shoulder. I want my damned privacy back."
She had been standing with her arms folded, her back firmly against the wall; now she let herself sag backward against it in sheer weary exhaustion; her arms fell emptily to her sides.
"We're not even good drama anymore, Jim. We're just another sitcom that should be canceled and forgotten. These people have been preparing for this operation for almost two years, and your little stunt almost flushed all that work down the toilet." There was real regret in her voice. "They're so pissed at you, Jim, that you don't have to jump out of one of those windows. You're likely to get thrown out. Haven't you noticed that nobody has spoken to you yet? Nobody's even nodded hello? You're being shunned. Even if I wanted to try to find a way to work with you, I couldn't. If I tried to tell these people to respect your authority, they'd laugh in my face, and I'd lose the last little shred of credibility and control that I have. I am not in a good position for a commanding officer."
She looked across the room at me. Her eyes were incredibly sad. And then she said the worst thing of all, the part that nearly killed me. I'd rather have been dragged naked across the floor of hell than hear what she had to say next.
"I would have resigned. But if I had, then for sure they would have canceled this operation. So I took a long walk and I had a long talk with myself and I realized that you've cost me too much. I can't afford you anymore. And yet, here you are, I can't even get rid of you. I don't want you here. I really don't. I want to do my job. I want to get this mission over with, and I want to go home. And if the President will let me, I want to emigrate to Luna or to one of the Lagrange colonies. Both L4 and L5 are being officially reopened. They're going to try to make them into genetic sanctuaries." She shook her head with heavy resignation. "The fallback plan is that if worse comes to absolute worst, that's where humanity will end up. In space. Chased off our own planet. But at least some of us will survive." Then she added in a voice so quiet, I had to strain to hear her, "I don't really care if I survive or not. I just want to go someplace where I can work without hurting so much."
Even with all the pain she'd handed me, I felt sorry for her. I wanted to go to her and comfort her. I wanted to drop to my knees and beg her forgiveness. I wanted-
It didn't matter what I wanted. Anything I wanted was irrelevant. I sank down onto a chair and buried my face in my hands. There was nothing I could do. I'd already done too much. Anything I might try to do now would only worsen the situation.
And then she surprised me. She let out a wail of anguish that brought me up sharply. I stared at her in astonishment. She sank slowly down against the wall until she was just sitting on the floor with her knees drawn up close in front of her chest, and her hands hanging limp in front of her knees. She looked lost and broken. She turned her face up to the ceiling and let out a long exhausted groan of despair.
"This mission's a waste of time," she moaned. "We're losing the war. We've already lost. You don't know this. Nobody knows it yet. Dr. Zymph only told the President last week. The Chtorran infestation will hit the critical biomass threshold in less than thirty-six month
s. Maybe sooner. That's the point at which we stop trying to control pockets of infestation and start trying to preserve pockets of protection. Have you seen the latest maps? The little pink pockets aren't winking out, Jim. The green ones are. We're losing. We're dying. It's all coming true. Everything we've been warning against. It's all happening, step by horrifying step. And there's nothing you or I or anyone can do to stop it anymore. Oh God, I'm so afraid. I don't want to live like this and I don't want to die. I don't want to be here anymore and I don't want to be me. And all these brave young men and women, these good, kind children, they keep looking to me for their inspiration. I'm so tired of lying and pretending…"
Abruptly, she looked across the room at me. "Say something."
I didn't move. I didn't even look up.
"Jim-say something. Tell me a joke. Anything. The one thing I always loved about you was that you never quit. You always can find something to say that's right for the moment. Say something to me now."
I stood up. "Uh-uh, I can't. If you're quitting, then so am I. You were the only thing that kept me going."
I went to my room and closed the door behind me. I threw myself sprawling across the bed and stared vacantly out the angled windows at the red-tinged sea below.
Now, let us approach the same question from the other direction.
The first stage of the Chtorran colonization had to have occurred covertly. We have already demonstrated that its presence had to have remained undetected for years, thus giving it the time it needed to feed and grow and reproduce, establishing itself, spreading and preparing the later stages of its developmentall of this without having to perform any direct or overt actions against any other part of the Terran ecology.
Therefore, the first stage of the Chtorran colonization had to have occurred in a biological arena that is easily accessible, simple, and out of sight.
Let us consider such an arena of biological activity-a simple natural process-that occurs all around us, everywhere on the planet at all times; a process that can be easily tapped into by an invading ecology because it is at the lowest possible level of the food chain. Is there such an arena?
Yes. It is called decay.
—The Red Book,
(Release 22.19A)
Chapter 34
After the Anvil
"There's a lot to be said for thinking with your dick. The average penis is a lot more likely to stand up for what it wants than the average man."
-SOLOMON SHORT
I woke up with a start. "Huh-?"
The knock repeated.
"Jim?"
"Go away."
Instead, the door slid open. Lizard stood there, but she didn't enter. I rolled back on my belly and stared out the window.
"What?" I rumbled.
"Nothing," she said. Her voice sounded strange. Stranger than usual.
"What? Was there a knife you forgot to twist?"
"Jim. Please don't do this."
I rolled over on my back again and stared at her. The sunlight was slanting sideways through the room and catching her in its golden rays. Her hair flamed like molten copper, her skin glowed from within, she looked like a haloed angel. It hurt just to look at her.
"What do you want?"
"I don't know." She stood there for a long, uncomfortable moment, looking uncertain and confused. Her gaze wandered all over the room, focusing first on the far window, then on the ceiling, then sliding back down the wall to rest on me for only the briefest of instants, before it flickered quickly away again.
"I just don't want to be alone," she admitted.
I shrugged. "Being with me is better than being alone? Is that supposed to be a compliment?"
"Jim-when you want to be, you can be an incredibly kind and compassionate man."
"After all the things you said to me, I think you're looking in the wrong place for compassion. You'd probably be better off with a vibrator."
She flinched, but I had to give her credit; she held her ground. "I never wanted to hurt you."
"Yes, you did. You wanted to get even. I hurt you. Over and over and over again. And you saved up all the hurts and then you did a Vesuvius all over me. I was so fucking blind. Everything you said was true-and I deserved your anger. But don't deny it, Lizard, you wanted to hurt me as much as I hurt you. Well, you succeeded. I don't think I've ever been hurt this badly in my entire life. So if you'll please just go away and leave me alone-"
"I'm scared. I'm alone. And I want someone to hold me. And you're the only person-" She came halfway into the room and stopped.
I sat up and stared at her. "I don't believe this. And you tell me that I'm self-destructive? What the fuck is going on here? Only a little while ago you were telling me that you never wanted to see me again. You told me that there are some hurts so bad that you can't ever forgive them or forget them. Well, that's what you just did to me." Abruptly I held up a hand to stop her from answering-and to stop myself from going on.
What was I doing? The one thing I wanted most in the world was to be the man in Lizard Tirelli's arms… in Lizard Tirelli's bed. I liked looking up into her eyes. I liked making her laugh. I liked making her gasp and sigh and giggle. So why the hell was I pushing her away so hard?
"What?" she said.
I shook my head. I couldn't talk. I choked on my own unspoken words. I swallowed hard and coughed and slapped my hand against my chest. Lizard went quickly to the bar; she came back with a fizzing glass of cold mineral water, pushing it firmly into my hand and guiding it carefully toward my mouth. I couldn't refuse it; I drank without tasting. The water poured down my throat like so much cold sand, but when I finished, I could speak again. I reached over and put the glass on the table next to the bed and looked up at her.
I caught my breath and began slowly. "I know what's at stake here-for everybody. But especially for you and me. Maybe that's why I'm so angry about everything. Because it's all out of control, and I'm just as terrified of losing as you are. Most of all, I'm scared of losing you. Sometimes I get so goddamned scared I can't even breathe. I start shaking so bad I think I'm dying."
Just talking about it was giving me the nervous jitters. I took a careful breath and moved on to the next thought. "Look, I came down here to Panama because I had the stupid idea that maybe you and I still had a chance. And then I got on this goddamn flying nightmare, and all I've gotten is one fucking body slam after another. The only person who's said one nice word to me is the cute little steward-and he's being paid to do that."
"The one with the nice ass?"
"I didn't notice."
"You must have. They all wear tight shorts."
"Well, then they probably all have nice asses. Yeah, okay, Shaun has a nice ass. Good legs. Cute smile. But he isn't you. And I don't want sex. Certainly not a mercy fuck-and certainly not one that has to be paid for. All I wanted, from the moment I arrived, was to sit down with you and have one of those moments where we just sit and talk to each other, saying everything we have to say until there's nothing left that needs to be said. Well, we finally had that talk and I'm still waiting for the paramedics to arrive."
At that, she reached over and laid a hand on my shoulder, lightly, as if she were afraid to really touch me. Her perfume was intoxicating, hallucinogenic. It gave me visions and ideas that hurt so badly, I shuddered. I closed my eyes against the seductive clamor of it; then I opened my eyes again and very gently I lifted her hand off.
"No, don't apologize," I told her. "That's my specialty."
She smiled sadly. There were tears at the corners of her eyes. I couldn't stand it. Just looking up at her this way made my throat hurt. I could feel my own eyes beginning to well up.
She started to reach for me again, I lifted a hand to ward her off. She stopped in midmotion; so did I. Then I lowered my hand and let her reach across the intervening light-years to brush my hair back, smoothing it gently.
After a moment, she pulled her hand back and waited for me to react.
&
nbsp; But I couldn't. Not yet.
"Look, Lizard, I guess I came down here thinking that you wanted the same thing I did. I didn't know that you felt the way you did, so I had this expectation that we could try to make things better. That's all I wanted-but what you hit me with was one of those 16-ton Acme Anvils, the kind with the really superlative sound effects, and the card with it said, 'That's all, folks!' "And now"-this hurt the hardest to say-"you come in here and you want nothing more than to sit here and be with me, maybe even hug me a little-and you're driving me fucking crazy, because if I give in, or if I let you give in, is that going to change anything? No. Not out there in the real world. They'll still hate me and you'll still find me a liability. And I'll still be a stupid asshole-"
"You're not stupid."
"Yeah, but I'm still an asshole. You told me that you're better off without me. And you were right, Lizard. You were so right. You were so much better off without me that I can't even say it without the tears running down my cheeks; maybe the whole fucking world will be better off without me. That's how I feel right now, and I can't possibly imagine anything that would be big enough to change that. So I don't dare try to be close to you now, do I? Or one of us will say or do something really stupid and then-then we'll… well, you know what'll happen."
She nodded. She straightened up and looked out the window. She didn't know what to say or do. At last she gave up trying and sat down on the bed next to me, but not very close. "I don't know. I ache all over. And when I ache all over, I'm used to coming to you and getting one of your world-famous back rubs. I guess I was hoping that we could just-"
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