A bright red worm came over the crest of the slope. Two more followed after it. And then two more. And another-I didn't care.
The bunnies saw and began cheering and shouting. It was beginning to sound more and more like a language.
"I think we've done it!" I laughed. "We've done it! I don't know what we've done, but we've done it!"
The bunnies were all around me now, patting me and touching me affectionately. Their fingers were soft and furry. And they tickled.
I dropped to my knees. The bunnies came up close to inspect my face. Their tiny hands touched my cheeks, my nose, my hair. They were fascinated by the hairlessness of my body. They stroked me curiously. Their eyes were huge and round. They looked like little toy animals, pink and cuddly. But when they yipped, I could see that they had sharp white teeth. But then-so did puppies.
One of the bunnies took my hand and began licking my fingers. He put my middle finger in his mouth and sucked on it thoughtfully. Then he let go and looked at me and ... giggled. I reached over and tugged his ear gently and we both knew it was all right.
The new arrivals plunged into the circle and joined the curious crowd. All of them wanted to get as close as possible. I reached out and touched as many of them as I could reach. I began to tickle them and poke them affectionately. I patted their heads and skritched their ears-they really loved that. I even picked up the baby bunnydogs and gave them little hugs and kisses. They shrieked and giggled with delight.
My transceiver started beeping. The bunnydogs cocked their heads at it curiously. I held it up for them to see-a tiny little button on a chain around my neck. I said, "See, it's nothing. It just makes noises. Make a noise, button."
The button said, "Oh, great and powerful god of small pink things, look around you now."
The bunnies were fascinated. One of the babies sniffed the button. Another tried to put it into his mouth. I had to take it away from him.
I looked up, beyond the small pink bodies. There were worms here.
I was surrounded by worms.
Nineteen. Twenty. Twenty-three worms.
All sizes. From the smallest I'd ever seen-about the size of a St. Bernard-to three huge monsters the size of Greyhound buses. "Well, hi guys..." I said. I stood up and looked at the worms.
The last worm was just being herded into place by three energetic little bunnies. Again I thought of a jumbo jet being directed to dock by the ground crew.
All right-assume that the bunnies control the worms. The question was why? What did the bunnies use the worms for? We were about to find out.
FIFTY-SEVEN
SOME OF the worms swiveled their eyes to study me. Some of them closed their eyes and looked like they were dozing.
And that was it.
They stayed outside the circle. Why? Did that mean something? Or not-?
Most of the bunnydogs were ignoring the worms. They were here to party. The worms were just... wallpaper. Or protection. Or ... what? I couldn't even guess.
Several of the bunnies were tugging at me. I allowed myself to be turned away from the worms. They wanted to play some more. I let myself be pulled into a cluster of them. I grinned. I giggled. I laughed out loud.
The bunnies laughed with me. They bounced and hugged and fell all over me, screaming and giggling like children. They seemed to be asking for something. They tugged at me and made little begging noises. I had the weirdest sense that they were wondering where the rest of my ... family was.
I touched the button at my throat and laughed. "I think there's room in this circle for a few more monkeys."
The button didn't respond.
I repeated my request. "I think we need some more monkeys out here."
"It's not part of the mission-"
"But it's appropriate," I said. "It's what's needs to happen next. We need to prove we're safe-as a species."
The button was silent.
I chuckled a bunny under his chin. We giggled together and made funny growling noises. I batted him gently, and he rolled and somersaulted backward like a happy little croquet ball. He scampered back for more.
I said to the button, "Come on, guys. I think, if a few more monkeys don't join us, it might be an insult to our guests."
The button said, "Hold your shorts on, jasper. We're picking volunteers-"
I stayed with the bunnies. I started talking to them, seeing if I could create the beginnings of a common language.
"Jim-" I said, and pointed to myself. "Jim-"
"Ch'ch'ch-" chittered one of the bunnies, and that was as close as we got. There simply was no interest here in exchanging concept-symbols.
The bunnies were sitting up now, turning to look at the domes. I turned to look too.
Six more apes were coming out to join us. I recognized Jerry Larson and Roy Barnes, and two of the observation team, though I didn't know their names. And Fletcher. All had stripped to their underwear.
The bunnydogs welcomed them into the circle, touching the newcomers as curiously as they had touched me. One of them tugged at Larson's shorts, sniffing and even biting. Another reached up and touched Fletcher's breast. She laughed and squatted down so the creature could examine her close up. She examined it right back. There was no modesty here.
I called to her, "They must be mammals-"
She grinned and called back, "Don't bet on anything yet-" The bunnies circled around all of us, clustering and gobbling and petting and touching. I looked to the worms-they looked bored. I felt curiously exultant. This was it! The breakthrough! We didn't need to be at war-!
I noticed that the bunnies were calming now, turning and also nolicing the worms.
And then they began to-sing.
It was in eerie sound, but high-pitched and sweet. No two of the little creatures were singing in unison, yet the effect of the whole crowd of them singing all at once was that of a chorus. Their voices blurred in a way that was distinctly otherworldly and oddly pleasant.
I looked to Larson, to Fletcher, and to the others. Their eyes were bright with wonder. They were as enchanted as I was by this little miracle.
"It's just like the herd!" I called.
Fletcher laughed back, "I know-I can feel it!"
Now, the bunnies began turning back and forth in little quick hops. They bleated as they bounced. They cooed and bubbled and chirruped at each other. It sounded like song, like a conversation, like a bubble of delighted laughter.
I turned around in the middle of it all, turning to get a sense of the entire group. As I did, I noticed the bunnies picking up my motion. They were turning too. The gathering was a reflection of myself.
I noticed the other monkeys, humans, turning too-all smiles and delight. A couple of them were humming lightly.
We turned together. Individual bunnydogs circled to me, then swirled away. There seemed to be no pattern at all to their movements, and yet there was a sense of harmony and wholeness in this gathering. I could feel it enveloping me like a big warm fizzy bubble bath.
It felt like home.
The bunnies were moving out of the circle now-moving to the worms.
They began climbing on the worms and patting them, grooming them, nuzzling them. Even the largest of the worms was covered with little pink shapes, patting and stroking at its dark purple fur. The fur seemed to shimmer with color as I watched; its stripes rippled and flowed along its sides. The movement was clear and distinct.
I realized that the humans were being left alone in the circle. Were the bunnies abandoning us-?
No-one of the bunnies had grabbed my hand and was stamping its feet impatiently. It tugged at my arm, and looked at me with its large cookie-button eyes. Its expression was expectant.