"Not true. You were hoping." He looked embarrassed. "Come here," I said.
"Huh?"
"You heard me."
He knelt beside my cot. I levered myself up on one elbow so I could put my face close to his. I reached over and stroked his hair.
He really was a sweet-looking boy. I wet my lips and closed my eyes.
Nothing happened.
I opened my eyes. Shaun was looking at me oddly. His eyes were shiny with tears.
"What is it?" I asked.
"You really do love her, don't you?"
"More than anyone in the whole world," I said.
He nodded. "I wish I had someone who loved me like that." The sadness and longing in his voice were heartbreaking. He started to get up.
"Hold it," I said. "Where's my kiss?"
"You don't have to-"
"A deal's a deal." I reached for his hand and pulled him back. At first, he hesitated, but I refused to let go of his hand. At last, he realized he wasn't going to be allowed to leave the tent without completing the transaction. His expression was uncertain, but he knelt close and put his face near mine again. I stretched over and kissed him gently on the lips. I let myself linger over the moment. He tasted as sweet as he looked. Finally, he broke away. He looked at me in surprise and delight and wonderment. "Wow…" he whispered. "How do you do that?"
"You're asking me? I thought you were the expert."
He shook his head. "So did I-"
"It's no secret," I said. "I just kissed you like you were the most important person in the world to me, because while I was kissing you, you were."
"Wow," he said again. "That's a new one to me. I gotta remember that." He knelt down and kissed me again, this time just a quick friendly peck on the lips, but I could tell he was already practicing. "Keep the phone hidden. I'll be back later." And then he was gone.
Most amazing, a living nest is a continual symphony of organic sound: noisy, enthusiastic, intricate, and indescribable. The entire nest pulses with clangorous, uproarious life. It is as if every single living thing within the Chtorran mandala has a voice and is determined to use it, expressing itself across the full range of its emotional terrain.
The walls of the tunnels throb with slow heart-like beats. Deep and regular booming vibrations can be felt thrumming through the ground. Bubbling and belching noises, like the sounds of a vast stomach ruminatively rumbling, come echoing up the shafts from the bottommost depths of the colony.
Other things, of all sizes, add their own sounds; they squeak and shriek and click and whirr, creating an ever-present susurrus of insect-like noises, a soft tide of tiny chitterings that ebbs and flows up and down the tunnels. Bunnydog gobblings and snuffler gulps can be heard in nearby chambers, and occasionally, even the purple wail of a distressed gastropede. Higher pitched notes are felt more than heard, the tiny ultrasonic pips of bladderbugs and the blind rat-like creatures that live on the ceilings and within the fleshy walls of the tunnels and chambers.
And over it all, under it all, throughout it all, permeating every part of the nest, echoing, resonating, vibrating in every Chtorran creature, is the continual great humming chorus of the gastropedes. Worms of all sizes, from the very smallest to the most immense, participate in this fantastic choir. They rumble continuously, each creature adding its own distinctive note to the song of the nest.
The sound is unlike anything ever heard before; the physical sensation of it is exhilarating, exciting, disturbing-and ultimately overwhelming. The experience is terrifying.
—The Red Book,
(Release 22.19A)
Chapter 77
Dannenfelser
"The karmic chicken always comes home to roost."
-SOLOMON SHORT
Instantly, I was punching up Houston. There was only one person who could get me what I needed. This was going to be one of the hardest things I'd ever done in ray life. He answered on the third ring. "Dannenfelser."
"Randy," I said.
I could hear his expression hardening, even over the phone. "What do you want?" he asked. His voice was very, very cold.
"I want to give you the opportunity to get even with me," I said. "I'm going to ask you for something. If you say no, it will be the worst thing that ever happened to me in my, entire life. If you say no, it will destroy me."
"Quit trying to cheer me up," he said. "Ask your question."
"Lizard Tirelli is missing."
"I know. General Wainright is very concerned about that."
"l find that hard to believe-"
"All differences of opinion aside-and yes, there have been plenty-General Tirelli is a brilliant officer. She does have her weaknesses," he said meaningfully, "but her strengths outweigh them."
"She's not dead," I said. "I spoke to her on the phone. I know where she was. I know where she has to be. But I've got a broken knee. I can't get to her."
"What do you want me to do?"
"You're coordinating the rescue operation, aren't you?"
"Only the information management."
"But you're running the prowlers through your department, right?"
"We've got two teams of a dozen operators each, forebraining the prowlers. We've got a security perimeter around the whole camp."
"I want one of the prowlers," I said.
I had to give him credit. He didn't flinch. "What for?"
"I want to use it to go searching for Lizard. The prowler can go where nothing else can."
"We need the prowlers for security," he said. "If I pull one out of the pattern, it jeopardizes all of you."
"Listen to me, please-"
"I haven't hung up on you yet."
"I wouldn't blame you if you did. I probably deserve it. But Lizard Tirelli doesn't deserve to be punished for my arrogance."
That stopped him. But only for a moment.
"What's the other agenda here, McCarthy?"
"I love her more than life itself," I said. I couldn't believe I had just admitted that to Randy Dannenfelser, but I had. Even more amazing, I had said it calmly.
He didn't answer.
"Please," I said. "Let me have the prowler-just for a few hours. Let me look for her."
Still, he didn't reply. I wondered what he was thinking, I wondered what he was going to ask in return.
"I'll owe you my life-" I started to say. "I promise you, I'll never ever trouble you again-"
"No deal," he said finally. "I couldn't make a deal like that, and you couldn't keep it. We both have too little respect for each other to make deals."
"Randy-"
"Wait a minute, stupid. I haven't finished talking. You've got your prowler."
"Huh?"
"This has nothing to do with you and me. This doesn't even have anything to do with the fact that you love her. It's simply the right thing to do."
"Oh, God. Thank you, Randy-"
"Don't thank me. Don't you dare thank me. And don't you ever ever make the mistake of assuming that I did this out of any affection for either you or the general. And most of all, don't ever speak to me about this again. One of the prowlers is about to have an LI dysfunction. It'll take about six hours to find the node of confusion. That's the longest I can pull it safely out of the pattern. Even so, we're still going to have a peripatetic hole. Now, then-give me your terminal code-"
"Oh, shit," I said.
"You don't have a terminal."
"Right." Silence. "Wait a minute." My mind was racing.
"You can't get one, can you?"
"I had to steal this phone, Randy-"
He sighed. Loudly. "McCarthy, you are more fucking trouble."
Another long moment. I had no idea what he was doing, what he might be thinking. For all I knew, he might even be considering chucking the whole idea. At last, he said, "I've got an idea. I don't know if it's feasible. Are you going to be at this number?"