A Matter for Men

TWENTY-TWO

WHEN THE conference resumed, there were some conspicuously empty places in the auditorium. I wasn't the only one who noticed; behind me, I heard someone say, "Good. Now maybe we can get something accomplished."

I found a seat closer to the front this time. Almost immediately, two MP-types dropped into the empty places on my left and a narrow-looking scientist type with curly black hair, glasses and a big nose plopped himself down on my right. He was carrying a clipboard. Funny-there were a lot of people carrying clipboards today; most of them looked like they were part of the cadre that was running this operation. Professional, determined and grim. The foreign delegates had a more casual air, and they had secretaries and aides with them instead of clipboards-an almost ostentatious display of wasted labor.

Dr. Olmstead called the conference back to order then and introduced the next speaker, Dr. Indri Kwong from the Asian Control Center. Dr. Kwong was very thin and very old. He wore one of those quasi-military suits that all those Asian officials like to wear. And he was tiny; they had to lower the podium for him. There was something wrong with his right arm-he kept his hand tucked into his pocket and used only his left.

He fumbled around with his notes for a moment, then began.

"Is that screen working? Ah, yes-good. Thank you." His English was almost too good-he spoke in precisely clipped phrases. "Thank you. Thank you for inviting me to address this conference. But if you will forgive the presumption of an old man, it is entirely appropriate that this section be the responsibility of the Asian Control Center. We were not only the first to isolate and identify specimens of the Chtorran gastropedes, but we have also compiled the greatest record of experience with these creatures. I wish to point out, however, that the term `gastropede' is a misnomer. The creatures are only superficially sluglike under their fur. They actually have many small pairs of legs-so, if anything, they are giant, pink, fur-covered caterpillars."

He stopped then and paged slowly through his notes. I thought it was strange that he was using hard copies instead of a clipboard or a terminal, particularly because of the extra burden of having only one hand to manipulate the pages with.

"May I have the first slide, please? Ah, thank you. This is the first public presentation of these photographs, and we believe them to be the best set of photos yet obtained. Perhaps I should take a moment to present the background here. It has been only recently discovered that the mountainous regions of Manchuria are the site of a rather heavy infestation of gastropedes and associated ecology. On somewhat short notice we organized a small caravan of armored vehicles and airlifted them into the area. They were able to send out the following pictures before contact was lost. I wish to point out that the loss of the caravan does not necessarily imply that the gastropedes reacted with hostility to the human presence. The area is also known to be a staging site for several well-organized bandit gangs-"

"Hmp," muttered one of the MPs on my left. "They won't let him admit they've got a rebellion on their hands. Those are probably guerrillas."

"-and it's equally possible the caravan may have been attacked by one or more of these gangs."

I looked at the MP, and whispered, "How come everybody is so reluctant to admit that the worms are dangerous?"

"Eh?" He looked annoyed at me, but before he could answer, the curly-haired fellow on my right shushed us both.

Dr. Kwong was saying, "The evidence of these pictures should effectively dispel several of the more pernicious rumors that the creatures feed on human flesh. As you can see here-ah, yes, here's the shot-this particular individual is stripping the bark off a tree. During this entire sequence of photos-until the creature realized it was being observed-it felled several small saplings and ate most of the smaller branches and leaves. Later on, other individuals were seen to duplicate this behavior."

Huh? But what about-

I shut my mouth and listened.

Dr. Kwong adjusted his glasses on his nose and looked out over the audience. "We do not dispute that there have been attacks on humans, but we do believe now that such incidents are atypical. Not all tigers are maneaters either. A tiger has to learn that a man is easy to kill. Um ... let me digress here. A tiger perceives that a human being is larger than he actually is because a man stands erect and seems to tower over the tiger. The tiger's perception of the man's height overrules his perception of the size of the man's body. So there is probably the element of, say, surprise for the tiger that a human being is easier to kill than he might have thought. But even that is not enough to turn a tiger into a man-eater. Human flesh does not taste good to the average predator-particularly the big cats. No, the tiger has to have a susceptibility, a need, before it can turn into a man-eater. Salt is one of its primary needs. A lack of it is usually enough to turn the tiger into an enemy. We suspect that the gastropedes that have attacked human beings may be suffering from a similar kind of dietary deficiency and human flesh may inadvertently be one of the sources for whatever the element is that they need."

Another picture came up on the screen. Obviously a telephoto shot. A small Chtorran carrying a sapling across the ground. "We suspect that the natural behavior of the creatures is closer to that of the North American beaver. This colony was observed for quite some time performing a very pastoral set of behaviors. As you can see here, they are in the process of damming a small stream.

"This is one of the larger Chtorran settlements that the team discovered. Notice that there are three domes here, and an equal number of domes still under construction-"

"Those are corrals," I said. I folded my arms across my chest. Dr. Kwong didn't see that the Chtorrans were predatory, so he obviously couldn't recognize their corrals for what they were.

The curly-haired man on my right gave me a look. "You know something?"

"Damn right I do."

"Better keep it to yourself. This isn't the place." He didn't intend it angrily, but I didn't want to hear it.

Dr. Kwong was saying, "-we do find it interesting that the Chtorran gastropedes come three to a nest. Never more than that-"

"Excuse me, sir," somebody said, standing up. It was me. Heads swiveled to look at me. Dr. Kwong stopped in midphrase, unable to ignore me. He blinked twice and said, "I beg your pardon?"

"Have you ever found four Chtorrans in a nest?"

"Dr. Kwong looked mildly annoyed. "Young man, I just finished saying that there were never more than three."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Young man, what is the purpose?"

"I'm sorry, sir. But they do come four to a nest. I've seen it." Beside me, the curly-haired man was tugging at my sleeve. "Sit down!" he hissed. I ignored him.

Dr. Kwong wasn't angry-just surprised that someone would display the incredibly bad manners to interrupt him. "Are you arguing with me, young man?"

"No, sir. I'm correcting you. I've seen it. Four worms-Chtorrans-in a nest. I was there."

"I see. Young man, I am the Director of the Asian Control Center. We have a network of observers that spans the largest continent on this planet. This is the first time I have ever heard of a fourth Chtorran in a nest. So perhaps you can understand my reluctance to accept this information. Particularly in these circumstances. I'm sure your story merits investigation. Perhaps some anomaly has occurred, but this is neither the time nor the place, so if you would resume your seat, I might continue-"

Something brittle snapped. "If this isn't the place, then where the hell is? I have information! I saw this myself." I said it loudly, and there was anger in my voice. "There was a but and a corral and the corral was full of millipedes and the hut was full of eggs. And when the Chtorrans came out of the but, there were four of them."

By now, the people around me were calling for me to sit down, but I ignored them. Curly-hair was slumped in his seat, one hand over his eyes.

Dr. Kwong motioned away a concerned aide. "No, no, let him be-I can handle him." Everything he said was amplified by the PA system, whether he faced the microphone or not. He said to me, "Young man, may I ask, on what do you base your knowledge? What is your credential?"

"United States Army. Sir. My name is James Edward McCarthy, and I hold the rank of corporal."

Somebody behind me snorted. Somebody else called, "That's as low as they have left. They can't find anyone willing to be a private anymore."

My mouth opened again and said, "United States Army, Special Forces Operation. I was assigned as an exobiologist and an observer."

"Special Forces?" There was something odd about the way he repeated it.

"Yes, sir."

"And your duties involved...?"

"I was on a reconnaissance mission and on a Chtorran-hunting mission."

"A what-?"

"Uh-to say it in plain English-which is something nobody else around here has done yet-we went out to burn some worms. And we killed three of them. And then the fourth one came out and killed my friend. And I had to burn them both."

"I beg your pardon? Did you say burn?"

"Yes, I did."

He was leaning forward intently. "What do you mean, `burn'?"

"Burn! Flamethrowers, sir. Napalm. Jellied gasoline. It's the only thing that'll stop a worm fast." There was a startled reaction from the audience, loud gasps and cries.

Dr. Kwong was holding up his hand. "Please, please-may we have some order? Napalm? Are you sure?"

"Yes, sir. I had to kill one of the best men I've ever known. It was the only way. I wouldn't lie about a thing like that."

"You used napalm? Napalm is an illegal weapon!"

"Yes, sir. I know that. I raised the same objection myself. But you missed the point, sir. There were four worms in that hut!"

"Young man, there are some very good reasons why napalm was outlawed as a weapon of war. If you'll wait a moment, I'll show you one of them-" He was fumbling with his jacket. One of his aides stepped up to help him, but Dr. Kwong brushed him peevishly aside. He unzipped the tunic and dropped it to the floor, then he opened his shirt to reveal a withered right arm and a mass of white scar tissue that stretched from his neck to his waist, and probably a good way down his leg as well. He walked with a slight limp as he stepped around the podium. "Take a good look-this is what napalm can do to a human being. I was seven years old. United States soldiers came to my village, looking for the enemy. The enemy was long gone, but they burned the village anyway. And most of the villagers too. I have lived all of my life carrying the scars of your country's crime against mine.

"Many other nations had to suffer the same ravages to discover sanity in the ashes-and it took a long time for it to happenbut the peace-loving nations of this world finally enforced a lasting peace against the imperialistic savageries of the United States. Napalm was the most pernicious of the American weapons to be restricted. There are too many thousands of crippled men and women who can tell you why. Look and see what it does to the human body, young man. There is no easy healing here-there is no healing at all, only scars. And now-you stand there in your ignorance, your bare-faced naivete, and dare to tell me that the United States is using such weaponry again? In disregard of all the treaties and United Nations mandates?"

"That's not the issue!" I was screaming now. "You grandstanding son of a bitch! You think the worms are so goddamned friendly, why don't you go in and see for yourself? They have one here at the center! He's in a glass-walled room-why don't you go in and try hand-feeding him! Then you'll find out if they're man-eaters!"

"Sit down!" That was Dr. Olmstead, pointing at me and shouting through a bullhorn-where the hell had he gotten that? Dr. Kwong was shouting back at me, "I've seen the specimen-and that's a feral animal. It has no inhibitions and only animal intelligence. It may be that the other creatures we've observed do have some intelligence. Had you let me finish, I would have discussed that point. We have been making attempts to establish contact with them, but since you and your cohorts have been burning every one of them you come in contact with, you've made it impossible for us. You're the ones who've made them into an enemy-you and your execrable military mind-set!"

Off to my right, one of the African delegates was standing and shouting now. "Don't be sidetracked! Let's deal with this napalm issue! The United States is in violation of-"

"What about the fourth Chtorran?"

"You can't bomb your way to peace," called someone else, and still another voice responded, "It's a helluva start!"

"Come on," the curly-haired man said, grabbing my arm. "You're getting out of here!" He gestured to the MPs. "That way-"

"Huh? What is this? You can't-"

"Shut up, stupid! You want to get out of here in one piece?" He pushed me roughly forward.

"Wait a minute! What about the fourth Chtorran-? Wait a minute!"