There were none. Good. "Reilly?"
"The worms are nearly halfway down. We have a remote in the tunnel to monitor traffic. We should be seeing them pass any minute now … Uh-huh, here comes the first one. Uh-oh-" Reilly clucked his tongue unhappily at the display. "-Shit. The bastard found the probe." One of the gastropedes had picked up the remote in its mandibles. We were looking straight down a Chtorran maw. It looked like concentric circles of teeth all the way down the creature's throat.
"This is not a view I want to see more than once in my lifetime," Reilly remarked.
"It's not a view you're likely to see more than once," I replied. "Hit the taser button," I suggested. "See if it drops the unit."
Reilly tapped his keyboard-the image flickered once, then the screen went suddenly blank. He checked the system analysis display with a sad shake of his head. "The unit's dead," he reported. "Crunched."
"Mm," I said thoughtfully. "I hope that worm bit the probe in anger. I'd really hate to discover that Chtorrans consider high voltage shocks a delicious spice."
"Maybe it's the same response we saw in the slugs-" Siegel suggested over the comlink.
I adjusted my headset. "Say again?"
"The slugs in the nest. When startled or distressed, attack. The probe hurts the worm, the worm bites it. Maybe these things don't have fear. At least, not as we know it. They don't know how to panic and run, all they can do is bite."
"Hm. Now that's an interesting thought. I wish we had more statistical evidence. Underline that in the log, will you? It merits a lot more investigation."
"Will do."
Reilly pointed to the schematic of the nest. The worms were moving down the tunnel again. "They're almost to the bottom."
"Now we find out if they're tenants or landlords or whatever-" The displays in front of us changed to show the interior of the nest. The first of the worms came sliding wetly down out of the tunnel. Most of the pink frosting on its fur had rubbed off on the way down; only a few sticky streaks remained on its sides, leaving the colors of its stripes showing bright and clear. The worm was flaring an angry red. Acrimonious patches stippled its sides; strident orange clashed with violet and purple intensities. It looked furious. It came thrashing down into the main chamber of the nest, an enraged horror. The second worm poured in after it. It too wore the same violent colors. The last gastropede-the smallest of the three-was not quite as vividly striped, but the combination of colors painted across its sides was essentially the same.
"Not a happy-looking group of campers, are they-?" Reilly said.
Before I could answer-
There are a number of ways in which houses and other structures can be hardened against stingfly infestation. Ordinary window screens are simply not fine enough to keep the gnat sized predators out.
The simplest solution is to cover all doors and windows with repellent flycloth, taking care to seal and cover all loose edges with quick-hardening foam. Multiple flaps of flycloth can be overlapped to create a "flylock," allowing a person to enter a structure without allowing stingflies to enter with him.
A more sophisticated defense is to cover the entire structure with polymer aerogels, creating an impassable barrier to the predaceous insects. This solution may not be practical in areas with high humidity, rain, snow, or wind, unless the aerogel barrier is regularly maintained.
Larger structures, such as office buildings, hangars, factories, storage facilities, and underground shelters, should maintain a slightly higher internal air pressure. Because the air will flow steadily outward, any open door will represent an impassable barrier to a stingfly.
Repellents and other scent-barriers will provide some deterrent effect, but they must be renewed on a regular basis. It is recommended that aromatics be used only in addition to other defenses, and not as a substitute for them.
—The Red Book,
(Release 22.19A)
Chapter 24
Guardians of the Grove
"The early worm gets the bird."
-SOLOMON SHORT
-the biggest of the three monsters opened its mouth and let loose one of the most blood-chilling screams I'd ever heard from any living thing-Chhttttaarrrrrrrgghhh!-it was a scream of many simultaneous sounds and intentions. I heard elemental rage in it. I heard soulful anguish and heart-stopping horror. The creature's cry was beyond comprehension or explanation; its meaning was conveyed entirely by the incredible depth of its expression. It was a sound of betrayal and madness and dissolution. It ripped through me like a physical attack. I heard emotions in that cry that still haven't been named. All of us in the van recoiled.
And then—the worms attacked. All three of them moved at once. They plunged into the thick rubbery flesh of the nest like things possessed. They tore into the red blubbers, they swallowed up the squirming slugs, they ripped down the pulsing arteries, slashing them and leaving them spurting dark syrupy liquid all over everything. The three worms chewed through all the connecting tangles and webs, pulling them apart and shredding them like confetti-and all the time, they screamed and roared and howled in madness.
The thick black blood of the shambler roots flowed like oil. It came from everywhere, it dripped from the ceiling, it flowed down the walls, it poured from the loose hanging veins. The slugs on the floor were screaming again-screaming and biting one another madly. The red blubbers were thrashing and twisting in epileptic seizures. The entire nest churned like a maelstrom. The images on the screens were confused and fragmentary. The cameras were bouncing angrily. Unnerving sounds poured from the speakers. The frenzy went on forever. On and on and on. The fury of these creatures was merciless and unending. Nausea seized me-I was grateful that I wasn't wearing a VR helmet.
"Siegel," I gasped. "Are you all right?"
"I'm not in the circuit, if that's what you mean."
"Good-"
"What's happening?" Lopez cried. "What are they doing?"
"They're definitely not tenants," I said. "And probably not landlords either." I was gripping the back of Reilly's chair with both hands. "I think they're marauders-the Chtorran equivalent of renegades. For some reason, they don't want this nest to survive and produce-"
"Competition," interrupted Reilly, shouting. "That's it! They're killing the competition."
"Oh, shit-you're right. That's exactly what's happening." A terrible thought occurred to me. "That dead worm we found-? These are the killers. It all fits! These are probably intelligent worms. The dead one was feral. They couldn't risk having a wild worm running loose in the same territory that they're trying to colonize. This is more of the same. What we're seeing here is deliberate."
"No-" Willig protested. "That can't be right. It doesn't make sense for worms to kill each other and destroy each other's nests-" Her expression betrayed her confusion. She was clearly prepared to argue the point.
"Yes, it does. They're preventing the development of other worm families. It happens all the time in nature. They're competing for genetic advantage; more food, more breeding opportunities-ultimately more children. Humans do it all the time."
"No, we don't!" The idea angered and upset her.
I looked at her sharply. "Have you ever worked for a corporation?"