A Day for Damnation

EIGHTEEN

A SUDDEN thought came to me. "Will we have enough air?"

Lizard hesitated. "Yeah-we've got some oxygen tanks with the medical supplies. We can crack those. Theoretically, we should be able to hold out for a day and a half I wouldn't want to have to depend on it though."

She pulled off her headset and tossed it onto the control panel in front of her. "Shit," she said.

"What now?"

"Oh, nothing. I had plans for tonight. Being buried alive wasn't part of them."

"Oh," I said. I couldn't imagine Colonel Lizard Tirelli on a date. "I'm sorry."

"What are you apologizing for? It's not your fault."

"Um, I was just expressing my regret."

"Yeah, well thanks for the thought then. I was thinking about steak and lobster all day."

"Lobster?"

"Uh huh. The Arizona farms are producing again. You should see some of the monsters they're turning out. This big-" She held her hands a meter apart. She added thoughtfully, "Arizona is an easy state to keep clean. There's not a lot of forage or ground cover for the worms. That's one place we should be able to hold the line against them for a long time."

"Is that part of the long-range planning?"

"Not yet. It will be though."

"Are you going to be on the Committee?"

"I've been asked. It's a question of... priorities." She shrugged. "What good is long-range planning if you don't take care of the present?"

"On the other hand," I said, "what you do in the present should be a function of your long-range goals, shouldn't it?"

She looked at me sharply. "Have you been talking to Dr. Fromkin?"

"Uh-no. Why?"

"That sounds like something he might say. That's a compliment by the way. But you're right. I have to go where I'm most effective." She smiled gently. "Which means I probably will join the Committee. I'm just afraid I won't get to fly as much. And I don't want to give up flying."

"I'd think being on the Committee would let you fly even more-you know, on-the-scene observations."

"It's a good idea," she acknowledged. "But I don't know that it would work out that way." She peered at the window then. "Hand me that flashlight-"

I passed it over, and she pointed the beam at the upper edge of the windshield in front of her. It was completely pink. "Yep. I thought so. The nose is completely covered. It must be coming down faster than ever."

She levered herself out of her seat and started working her way to the back. I followed behind. She dug around in a side panel and produced another flashlight and an emergency lamp. The lamp she hung from a hook in the ceiling. "There-that's better." She handed me the second flashlight.

She climbed past Duke and pointed her beam around the tail of the chopper. I didn't know what she was looking for. She stuck her head up into the rear bubble and pointed the flashlight around inside. "Uh huh. We are now completely buried. I sure hope this crap isn't an insulator. We could get awfully hot in here-"

"I thought that Banshees were tiled."

"They are-but if we're buried, there's no place for the heat to go." She climbed toward the back. "You hungry?"

"Yeah."

"Good. Get the emergency rations out."

I checked on Duke-no change-and then pulled out the ration box. We reconvened at the front of the chopper. We swiveled the seats around to face the rear. Better to have the fifteen-degree noseward tilt holding you in instead of tipping you out. I leaned back and put my feet up on the deck. The ration bars were chewy and required a little concentration.

Abruptly, she asked, "Have you ever been invited to a Blue Mass?"

I shook my head. "Is that an invitation?" I asked.

She gave me a sour look. "I was just wondering if you knew anything about them."

"Sorry," I said. "I've heard that the members are pretty aggressive in their recruitment."

She nodded. "I was invited last week. They have them every weekend now. Hundreds of people attend, and pay a thousand caseys each for the privilege." Lizard's tone went softer then. She said, "I was just wondering-I've heard stories. But not from anybody who's been to one. Apparently there's some kind of confidentiality agreement. But I hear that... there's a lot of release. A lot of abandonment. I'm not sure what that means. There's supposed to be a lot of sex too."

She left that thought hanging between us for a beat, then commented, "I don't know that screwing yourself into insensibility is the best way to handle the madness, but obviously it works for some people. So ... sometimes I wonder if it would work for me. I can't help but wonder if maybe all those people have really found something."

Her voice grew very soft then. I had to strain to hear what she said next.

"Sometimes I get tempted. What if it really does work? Wouldn't I be a jerk not to go? It would be nice to forget-even for a little while. That's why I would go. To forget."

I was embarrassed. I wanted to say something, but I knew that whatever I said would automatically be the wrong thing to say. "Except-" Lizard continued, "I know that it's a trap. It's like drugs. Another escape. Once you start trying to escape, it isn't long before you're running. I've seen it happen to too many people already. I don't want it to happen to me." Abruptly, she fell silent.

I glanced over at her. She was staring at her ration bar moodily. I looked at mine. "It sure isn't lobster, is it?"

"That's right-rub it in." She sounded bitter.

"I'm sorry-" I made up my mind then, I had to ask. "Colonel-?"

She didn't look up.

"Uh-sometimes I get the same kind of feelings. And-uh, I figure that I'm probably not the only one. So I figure that the brass must know about it. I mean ... there must be some-uh, outlet. Or something. Isn't there?"

She didn't answer immediately. I was beginning to wonder if she was going to answer me at all, when she said, "Yes, the brass knows that most of the men and women in uniform are this close to the edge. And no, there isn't a solution. At least, not the kind you're looking for-the easy one."

And suddenly, she was Colonel Tirelli again, crisp and military. Under control. "Remember Dr. Fromkin? He's working on that problem now. The President asked him to. So far, all he's said about it is that the only answer is an unsatisfactory one. He says that each of us is responsible for what goes on inside our own heads. Therefore, each of us is responsible for maintaining our own balance."

"But, how-?"

She shrugged. "That's what he's working on. I suspect it's a more advanced form of the Mode training, but I don't know. Listen-" she added, "you're in Special Forces, the Uncle Ira Group, so you can always call Dr. Davidson in Atlanta."

"Do you talk to him?" I asked.

"Now, you're getting personal," she said.

"Sorry-"

"There you go, apologizing again." She looked over at me, a funny look on her face. "Do you ever do anything else?"

"Oh, I'm sorry-I mean, uh, yeah-I screw up." I looked back at her. "So I'll have something to apologize for. Sometimes I think that's the only social transaction I'm good at." I grinned apologetically.

"It's called Schlemiel," she said. "It's a game. You win by getting people to forgive you. That's the payoff. You can play it forever-as long as there are people to spill soup on." She looked at her ration bar sourly. "But it bores the hell out of me."

I didn't know what to say. I opened my mouth anyway. Words fell out. "Well excuse me for being on the same planet with you. Excuse me for being in the same species."

"I'm not so sure that we are the same species. . ." she said. "I'd like a second opinon on that."

I flustered. If I could have gotten up and walked away, I would have; but there was no place to walk to. How was I supposed to respond to her? I said, "I don't know what to make of you! Just a few minutes ago we were talking like two human beings-now you're treating me like I'm some kind of a-a thing!"

She didn't answer immediately. She was chewing quietly. When she did speak, she kept her voice calm. She said, "I'm treating you like you're acting, Lieutenant. You're acting like a spoiled little brat. It's boring. I'm tired of listening to you apologize. I'm tired of you taking the blame for everything that goes wrong in the world. "

"Well, but-"

"No. Just shut up and listen. You're not giving yourself any credit for the things you did right."

"I don't think I did anything right!"

"That's right. You don't think you did! You went out in that dust and got a good look at some previously unknown Chtorran creatures. You saved Duke's life-I grant that you did it with an extremely unorthodox and probably not recommended procedure, but you did save his life. You single-handedly dragged him back to the chopper. I know a lot of people who wouldn't have done that, they'd have given up first. You didn't give up! And when you did get here, you didn't stop. You didn't do anything for yourself until you'd first done everything you could for Duke. I was here too. Remember? I saw it! You know, they give out medals for that kind of stuff. You're a goddamned hero, McCarthy-"

"No, I'm not!"

"-but you won't believe it, because you have some picture in your head of what you think a hero is supposed to be, and that's not you! Right?"

"Uh-"

"Right?" she demanded. "Am I right?"

"Uh-I know I'm not a hero. Yes, you're right."

"Yeah," she nodded. "So you go around apologizing for being who you are. And in the meantime, you keep forgetting to notice that who you are is not such a bad person. You know, you'd be kind of cute if you weren't such a schmuck."

"Huh?"

She flushed and threw her hands up in the air. "Now you know my secret. I think you're cute. An asshole, but a cute one."

"Cut it out! I don't like being teased like that! I had my fill of it in high school!"

"I'm not teasing." She was dead-serious.

"Huh-?" This conversation wasn't making sense. "You mean that? You think I'm cute?"

"Yeah." She nodded. "You."

"Uh-no. I'm not. I have a broken nose that was never properly set. And I'm too short. And I'm too thin. And I'm-"

"There you go, doing it again. Can't you just let it in and say thank you?"

"Uh-" This was very hard. "I'm not-used to this. Compliments I mean. Nobody ever-I mean-uh-" I stopped. I felt embarrassed. And I felt good. Lizard was really a beautiful woman! "Thank you," I said.

"Good." She beamed. "Very good." She looked at what was left of her ration bar. "But you're right about one thing, you know."

"Huh? About what?"

"It sure as hell isn't lobster."