Siegel returned the display to now-time. "Pretty scary stuff, huh?"
"I've seen committee meetings that were worse," I said, but not too convincingly. Siegel was right. These creatures had a ferocity that belied their blobby, amorphous innocence.
"What do you think?"
"Interesting defense mechanism," I said. "Whenever you're distressed, eat someone." My voice was a lot calmer than my stomach said it should have been.
"So? Do you think these are baby worms?" Siegel asked.
I hesitated before answering. "I don't know," I admitted. "I've seen baby worms. They had hair. These don't. Maybe these are some kind of transitory phase." I popped off the VR helmet and began thinking out loud. "The babies I saw had been tamed by a renegade family. They already had three adult worms, but they wanted more. I think they wanted to start breeding them. I've always wondered how that would have worked out-who would have ended up controlling who.
"But I was with them when they found a fourth worm, a baby just hatched. It was a very important event to them. They said it was a completion. Later, when I had the chance to come back with appropriate armament, they had a whole nest of little worms. I never did find out where the babies came from or how these people were taming them. No, that's not right-I do know a little bit about the taming. There's an imprinting process. I think it's done when the worms all cuddle up together and go into communion, but that still doesn't answer the question of how a human can tame a worm, let alone live with it."
"But you know it's possible, you've seen the proof of it," Siegel said.
I nodded thoughtfully. "I know it's possible. I just don't know how they did it. I can't imagine someone climbing down into a shambler nest and pulling a few of these babies out. And I can't imagine taming a worm after it's started to grow. But that's the question about the renegades that needs to be answered. I'm convinced that the process has to be a simple one, and it involves being there when the worm first hatches. Maybe it's something as basic as just being there to feed it and pet it and mother it and rub its nose in the puddle whenever it leaves an opinion on the carpet. That's how you tame humans. Most of them, anyway." After a reflective moment, I added, "If that's really the case, then I have a feeling we're going to be seeing a lot more renegades in the future."
Siegel didn't answer. The thought clearly disturbed him. Willig, however, realized exactly what I was thinking.
"So you think renegade behaviors are inevitable?"
"I don't know," I admitted. "We know that humans can survive in a worm camp, and we know that worms can apparently be tamed enough to live in partnership. Or vice versa. But what the mechanism might be-well, we're not likely to find out unless General Tirelli's Brazilian mission succeeds. On this continent, we don't study worm camps, we burn them. And renegades especially."
"You don't agree?"
"On the contrary-I very much agree. I think we should burn every goddamn renegade we find. But I sure would like to interrogate a few of them first, that's all. The problem is-after a while, they don't use human logic anymore. There's no common ground for communication. They won't or can't reach back to who they used to be. I don't know."
Siegel interrupted then. "Captain… ?" His voice was very low.
"Yo?"
"Main screen."
I looked. The view showed the top of the distant hill. The dust plumes had resolved. Three worms were paused at the crest, looking down at us. They were studying the rollagon like three ravenous travelers looking over a very short dinner menu.
The stingfly exists primarily in a permanent swarm over a Chtorran nest. Often the swarm is so thick that the sky turns gray and grainy. The amount of light actually reaching a viewer on the ground is visibly diminished.
An unprotected human being in a large mandala nest, would probably be covered with stingflies. Without adequate protection, these voracious "insects" could inflict so many bites on a person's naked skin that he would be a bloody mass within minutes.
Indeed, it is even possible that within an hour, most of the blood would be drained from the unfortunate victim's body.
—The Red Book,
(Release 22.19A)
Chapter 22
In Deep
"Life is hard. Then you die. Then they throw dirt in your face. Then the worms eat you. Be grateful it happens in that order."
-SOLOMON SHORT
I didn't say anything for a moment. It wasn't that I couldn't think of anything to say-there wasn't anything that needed saying. But Willig was looking at me expectantly, and even though I couldn't see the expression on his face while sitting at my console, I knew that Siegel was impatient for a decision too, for some course of action. The others as well would be wanting some reassurance that their captain hadn't flaked out.
"Okay," I sighed. "Siegel, check to see how thoroughly we're glued in. If we have to plow our way out of here-"
"We're in pretty deep," he said. He didn't sound happy. "I ran some rough checks last night and another set just before you woke up. It's pretty gummy. We're hip-deep in muck."
"Give me the short version."
"I think we're sinking."
"You can't break free?"
"I've been trying all night. Whatever I do, it just makes it worse. This stuff is-I dunno what it is. It's not mud, it's not sand, it's not anything. It flows like liquid, unless you try to move, then it sits like concrete. The treads can't get a grip on it. Sorry, Cap'n, but this machine isn't going anywhere for a while."
"Right. We're snowed in. We've got three worms outside. And we can't call for help. Now tell me the bad news."
Siegel didn't answer. The silence on the channel stretched out uncomfortably.
A nasty thought popped into my head. Willig looked at me sharply as I levered myself up out of my chair. I climbed forward into the cockpit, to get a firsthand look at Siegel. I checked out Locke and Valada at their stations too. Lopez was still sleeping. I reached over and switched off the comlink. "Okay," I said quietly to Siegel. "I give up. What aren't you telling me?"
Siegel looked puzzled. "That's all there is, Captain."
"Then I don't get it. You guys aren't stupid. You know what trouble we're in. You're all taking this far too calmly. What's going on?"
"Captain." Siegel swiveled in his chair to face me. "If you're not afraid of Randy Dannenfelser, then why should the rest of us be afraid of three little Chtortans?"
"Chtorrans have bigger mouths."
"Dannenfelser has a nastier bite."
I held up a hand. "Let's leave that for the biologists to worry about. Have we gotten any signals off the net? Any messages?" Siegel's expression flattened sadly. "Sorry, sir. Nothing."
"Merde." To Siegel's quizzical stare, I said, "Pardon my French. I meant to say 'shit!"' I sat down in the copilot's chair. "All right, let's send a Mayday. Demand an emergency pickup. All channels. They can't ignore that."
"What if they do anyway?"
"Then you and I will have the privilege of testifying at their court-martial."
Siegel didn't look happy. "Are you sure you want me to send this?"
"Do you think we can get out of here by ourselves?" I pointed at the windshield. The first few Chtorran insects were already eating their way across the glass, but there weren't as many as I had expected. "Do you think it's going to get ravenous out there? I don't. That stuff came down pretty thick, this isn't a heavily infested area, and I don't think there are going to be enough bugs to eat us free. This isn't a tank anymore, it's a pillbox. There's not much else we can do here-"