"Captain?"
"Yeah?"
"What you said before, y'know, about the next stage of the invasion; that the worms are just shock troops, here to soften us up-and that the next thing, whatever it is, is going to be even worse, because that'll be the thing that eats the worms. D'you believe that?"
"It's a theory," I said noncommittally.
"Think we're going to find worms at the bottom of this?"
"I don't know what we're going to find."
"It's not a worm nest, though, is it?"
"No. It isn't. At least, it isn't like any worm nest I've ever seen."
"So…" Siegel hesitated. "Do you think it might be a nest of worm-eaters or overlords or whatever-?"
"I don't think," I said curtly. "I'm not being paid to think. I report. I let other people think."
Willig snorted. She knew it was a lie, but she wasn't going to contradict me aloud when she didn't know who might be monitoring the channel.
But I knew my sharp reply hadn't been fair to Siegel, so I added, "This isn't a nest. This is something much more complex than a nest. This is a-factory." And even as the words fell out of my mouth, I realized the truth of them. This was an industrial plant pun intended.
I sat paralyzed in my chair for a moment, while the realization sank down to the pit of my stomach and then began clawing its way back up again.
"Holy shit," I whispered to myself. Then: "Siegel, take over. Willig, get me an operator. Oh hell, see if Dr. Zymph is on-line."
Within seconds, a new voice came on the channel. Female. I didn't recognize it. "Houston here."
"Are you monitoring?"
"You've got a prowler down a hole-" Pause. "So what? It's a worm nest."
"No, it isn't. I know worm nests."
Another pause. "Looks like a nest to me. Oh, I see. You've got unidentified life forms, and-" This time the hesitation was much longer. "Is this correct? No, it can't be. You'd better pull your prowler out. Its sensors have gone dysfunctional."
"No, they're not dysfunctional." I let an edge of annoyance creep into my voice. "We've got some kind of organic factory down here. We've been descending through a series of pressure locks; the valves are a kind of bladder device, either a specialized organ of the tree root or a symbiotic partner; probably a partner, we've seen similar doors in worm nests. We've pushed through twenty or thirty of them. I promise you, the atmospheric readings are correct."
"Can you pull your prowler out and double-check it?"
"That's not practical," I said. My tone was final. "Can we bring a bio-team on-line?"
"Just a moment." She sounded annoyed. She clicked away momentarily, then came back. "Stand by. We've got an officer in Oakland on duty."
"Is Dr. Zymph available? I think this is-"
"You're not being paid to think, Captain. Let us do the evaluations."
"What is that?" Willig muttered. "A mantra?"
"Yes, ma'am," I said quickly. I put my thumb over the mike and turned to Willig. "See? I told you."
She shook her head. "More fools they." She turned back to her station.
"Ma'am?"
"Yes, Captain?"
"What is your name, please?"
"Specialist First Class, Martha Dozier. Why do you ask?"
"Just in case the next time I see Dr. Zymph she asks me who refused to forward my report, I want to be able to tell her."
"Cute," replied Specialist First Class, Martha Dozier. "But it won't work. Your job is to report. My job is to filter. My supervisor will back me up. Stand by. Oakland's coming on-line." Another new voice. Also female. Also unfamiliar. "This is Dr. Marietta Shreiber. What have you got?"
"Have you got a VR?"
"I'm linking up now. I've got your mission log downloading too. Brief me quickly."
"Large shambler grove. Over a dozen trees. Very tall. Satellite surveillance shows it hasn't moved in at least six months, but I'd guess it's been here a lot longer than that. At least eighteen to twenty-four months. Very unusual. We sent in a prowler. We took a look around the roots and found a tunnel mouth. I don't know if all the trees have tunnels under them or just this one; but I don't think it's anomalous. The roots of the tree go right down the shaft. We sent the prowler in, and it looks like the tunnel was carved by the roots. Inside, the shaft is some kind of organic structure-I don't know how to describe it; it looks like the inside of a blood vessel. There are artery-like tubes down here that have some kind of fluid in them, and they pulse with a rhythmic beat, about once every fifteen seconds. We've got a sample of the fluid, it's still in the prowler. There are other kinds of fleshy organs as well, growing out of the tunnel walls. We came to a place where some of these organs have expanded to become valves that seal the whole channel. We pressed through and found a whole series of valves. We must have gone through a couple dozen, at least. The deeper we go, the thicker the atmosphere gets; the humidity is up, the pressure is up, temperature is up, the oxygen levels are up; the gas mix is very weird, very soupy. And there's lots of funny stuff swimming in it."
"That doesn't sound like a normal worm nest, Captain."
"Listen to me. This is not a worm nest; I've been in enough nests to recognize the difference. This is something else."
"All right, wait a minute. I'm looking at your readouts now. Uh-huh. Uh-huh. I see." There was a long silence, and then finally, she said, "Hmm. That's interesting-"
"What?"
"Dr. Zymph is going to want to see this. Some of it matches our predictions of what we think the atmosphere on the Chtorran home world might be."
Willig leaned over and patted me on the back. I shrugged it off. It was an obvious guess. And it could just as easily be wrong.
What if this was a womb of some kind? If that was the case, there was no reason why it would have to represent Chtorr-normal atmosphere any more than a human womb represents Earthnormal atmosphere. What if this was a specialized environment for some Chtorran purpose?
A pause. "What do you need, Captain… ?"
"McCarthy. Captain James Edward McCarthy, Special Forces Warrant Agency. Support. I need support."
"Oh. Yes, I see. Just a moment." This time the pause was much longer.
"Dr. Shreiber?"
"Yes?"
"Listen, I don't know if you recognize my name-"
"I know who you are,'" she said coldly.
"Then I'm not going to be modest. I know what I'm doing out here. I'm one of the most experienced agents in the, Special Forces."
"Yes, I know. Most of your colleagues get eaten young."
"Excuse me? I'm trying to do a job here. Why the sudden hostility?"
"I saw your performance on the news last week. Very cute. You embarrassed us all."
I sighed. "You're welcome to join me on my next mission and show me how to do it right. In the meantime, I think we have a real find here and I don't want to screw it up. I'd like some guidance on how to proceed. Are you going to support me or not?"
She didn't answer. "Dr. Shreiber?"
"Hold it," she said. "I'm on the other line." A moment later, she came back. "I'm sorry, I can't give you any backup."
"Because you disapprove of me personally?"
She hesitated. Her tone was deliberately unemotional. "I'm sorry, Captain. I can't give you any backup."
I was honestly confused. "What's going on-?"
"I'm going to break the channel now-"
"Dr. Shreiber! Scramble a private channel, right now!" I clicked over to privacy. "Are you there?"
To my surprise, she was. "Yes, Captain?"
"Give me a straight answer. What's going on?"
"Nothing's going on."
"Bullshit."
"You don't have to be rude-"
"Yes, I do. I've been on enough missions to know the protocol. Nobody ever refuses a call for assistance."
"Well, I am." There was something odd about the way she said it.