It headed directly toward the chopper now, directly toward two of the largest worms. Their eyes blinked as it approached.
It hesitated only a moment-then dashed directly between the two of them. Their eyes swiveled to follow this small presumptuous machine. It passed between them so rapidly they nearly twisted their eyes off. Only after it passed their tails did they remember to be surprised and leapt around to stare at it again. Was that a Chtorran double take?
One of the worms cocked its eyes curiously-the "hand-puppet expression" was getting very familiar-and started to follow the crab tentatively. The crab swiveled a spotlight toward it-and the worm backed away quickly. I started to giggle. It was funny. These monsters had to mass several tons apiece-and they were startled by a hyperkinetic machine?!
The crab had already scuttled sidewise around the chopper. I swiveled around to watch it disappear over-no, through-one of the steepest drifts of all. Its powdery light gleamed in the distance. It was moving as far from the chopper as it could to provide a long third leg for the tripod of mooring ropes. After a moment, I saw the now-familiar puff of smoke, and a few moments later, the crab scuttled back, trailing only a single line. Our lifeline.
"All right," called Lizard. "They're ready if we are."
"Wait a minute," I called. "Something's happening."
The worms were swiveling their eyes upward again-to stare at the blimp. The airship was moving onto station directly overhead. Mother! That thing was huge! And bright! The air around it didn't just glow-it shimmered.
The blimp was a giant pink egg that filled the sky. It hung there like a gorgeous UFO, pouring light down on all of us-the pale powdery drifts, the stubby bunnydogs, the darkened chopper, and the curious worms.
The worms
I couldn't tear my eyes from them. They shone incredibly in the glare from above-they looked luminous. They looked like they were made of electricity. Their fur rippled in waves; the stripes on their sides seemed to shiver and shift with red and purple iridescence. They looked as if they were lit from within. They glowed with pink auras.
The airship was pulling itself into position by adjusting the length of its mooring lines. It was a tricky maneuver because the pilot also had to keep the ship pointed into the wind. The display boards on its sides were flashing with bright stripes and colored patterns and even a crawling message: HEAVY LIFTING IS OUR BAG. OREGON AIR-LUMBER. Then a moment later: PAUL BUNYAN RESCUES U.S. ARMY. PICTURES AT ELEVEN.
The worms were fascinated by the sight. They turned around and around under the blimp; their eyes were angled upward, blinking furiously. They circled in the clearing, oblivious to everything else; they bumped into each other again and again as they tried to track with the airship. The bunnydogs had to scramble to keep out of their way.
"They're going crazy," I called. "Something about the blimp-"
And then one of the worms stood up. It raised itself almost its entire length. I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes. It reached futilely, frantically for the blimp. It stretched its arms upward in a pleading gesture-
I thought of pictures I'd seen of New Christians trying to touch the robes of The Apostle.
-and then the worm opened its mouth and let loose the most incredible sound I'd ever heard from the throat of any creaturea long, high-pitched, warbling-wavering, strung-out-forever wail of hope, desire and despair. The sound was maddening.
And then the worm fell back down into the dust. It toppled backward, writhing; its two rows of pitifully tiny feet waved in the air for a moment; and then it scrambled around madly trying to right itself-trying to reach for the blimp again.
I felt sorry for it.
The other worms were trying to lift themselves toward the blimp too. They stretched their arms and cried. They wailed. They worshiped.
"I don't get it-" Lizard said.
"I do. The blimp looks like a worm. A big bright friendly worm-" And then the second, deeper part of that realization hit me. "-A giant, floating, dazzling, vision of a worm! An angel hanging in the sky! Pouring light! In their own image! It looks like a god to them!"
"Oh, my God," said Lizard softly. She saw it too.
"Tell the blimp to cut their lights!" I called forward. "It's the lights that are doing it. We're going to have to do this in the dark." I looked upward again myself The blimp was beautiful. I could see why the worms were so crazy underneath it. How would you feel if an angel opened the sky and shone its light down on you? And then the blimp doused its lights and disappeared. It vanished completely, cloaked by the night and the thick powdery gloom in the air.
The worms shrieked.
They screamed like all the tortured souls of Hell. The sound was hideous.
"Oh, no-" I'd made a mistake.
How would you feel if an angel opened the sky and shone its light down on you? How would you feel if-when you called to that angel-it disappeared and left you behind? Alone.
You'd feel damned.
Outside, the worms were raging.
TWENTY-EIGHT
WE WERE left with only the lights of the chopper and the crab. The worms were dark shapes in the night again.
The blimp was a darker shape overhead-not seen, just barely sensed.
The worms were moving again.
They circled and shrieked and raged at the sky. They raged at each other. They raged at the chopper. Something bumped us-hard. Duke began to moan again. I wondered if the worms were going to vent their fury on us.
A long dark shape flowed over the chopper just a few meters away from me. It startled me so badly, I tried to leap back in the turret and banged my head on the Plexiglas. The chopper creaked with the weight of its passage. The hull crackled and complained. Oh, God
The monster poured down the opposite side and charged at the largest worm in its path. I wished for a spotlight. It shrieked and leapt. It attacked the other worm in a raging fury. The two great beasts wound themselves around each other like serpentine wrestlers and rolled across the powdery dust in a furious tangle. The smoke rose around them.
They broke apart once, then wrapped themselves up in each other again and wrestled off into the darkness, quickly disappearing in the ever-present haze.
I'd never seen that before. I'd never seen a worm attack another worm.
All around the chopper, suddenly all the worms were attacking each other. Or, at least, trying to.
They rushed at each other, then jumped away. They circled warily, all the time shrieking and moaning and making low, rumbling sounds. They were hellbeasts. They were terrifying.
Two by two, they paired off, writhing into the gloom. It didn't look like an attack any more-it looked like a ritual of some kind. It looked like-communion. The worms were withdrawing into each other's embraces-as if no one single one of them could figure this out by itself, as if they had to pool their brainpower.
And then suddenly, all the worms were gone. And there was silence.
Stillness.
Nothing moved. Even the dust seemed frozen in the air.
The bunnydogs had disappeared. The millipedes were gone. There was nothing but the pale pink dust again.
"Is it over?" asked Lizard.
"I don't know." I made myself let go of the turret handles I'd been gripping. My fingers ached with the sudden release of tension. My chest hurt again.
"What were they doing?"
"I don't know-but let's get out of here now. Quickly! Before they come back!"
Even as I spoke, the crab was scrabbling up the side of the chopper. It poised itself next to the turret and pointed two spotlights and a double-eyed camera at me. One mechanical claw snapped upward in a crisp salute. Automatically, I started to salute back, then pulled my hand down in embarrassment. The crab bobbled its lights as if it were laughing-and waved. I glared back.