"That I heard of."
"Well ... your Captain Anderson back there-only he was Lieutenant Anderson at the time-was... ah, actively involved."
"How actively?"
"They gave him orders. He followed them."
"I must be stupid," I said. "I don't understand what you're trying not to say."
"Captain Anderson did his job. People got killed. A lot of them. Mostly on the other side. That happens a lot in a war. Captain Anderson deserved a medal. Instead, they gave him a court-martial."
"Duke-?"
Lizard nodded. "He was acquitted-but then so was Lizzie Borden, and look at how many people remember her."
"Jeez, I didn't know any of this-"
"Not many people do any more. I had to look it up myself. It's very interesting reading. Captain Anderson can have a promotion anytime he wants. All he has to do is retire."
"No way. Not Duke."
"Mm hm. A lesser man might have resigned his commission. Captain Anderson didn't. You ought to look up his statement to the court. That's the most interesting part. It's about the real meaning of service; he said, `Commitment means not quitting just because the job got tough."'
"But they never promoted him after that?"
"Right. "
I thought for a moment. Her explanation made sense-except it didn't. I looked at Lizard sharply. "There's something else you're not telling me, isn't there?"
She didn't answer. "Well ... ?" I prompted.
"All right..." she sighed. "You'd better hear it from me, I guess."
"Hear what?"
"The other reason you were pulled out of Colorado is that Danny asked me, off the record, to find something a little less dangerous for Captain Anderson. You know, he's over fifty?"
"Duke?"
"Yeah, Duke."
I glanced to the back of the chopper. I'd never thought of Duke as really old.
"I told you I looked up his record. It's impressive. So I asked for him to be assigned to me. You were part of the package, so you got pulled too. But it could have happened anyway. We're pulling a lot of personnel out of the Rocky Mountain District right now for California."
I grunted a polite acknowledgment. I didn't like the implications. Lizard reached over and put her hand on mine. She waited till I looked up at her. Her eyes were incredibly blue. "Listen, stupid. I did mean what I said about your expertise. I could have put you and Duke anywhere, but I asked for you in my section because the two of you are exactly what I need right now. I especially appreciate your sense of the Chtorran ecology. I've learned to appreciate it even more in the past two days."
"Thanks," I said grumpily. I even meant it.
"Are you unhappy about that?"
"Listen-" I said. "As long as we're telling the truth ... the only reason I'm the best worm expert in California is that there aren't any others. You think too much of my abilities."
"You haven't done too badly here."
"There's no trick to that."
"Oh? Really?"
"Sure. You just ask yourself what could make this situation worse. Then plan for that. If it happens, you look like you know what you're doing. If it doesn't, you're still better prepared to handle whatever does happen."
"You're kidding."
"Nope. Try it." I gestured toward the windshield. "What could make this situation worse?"
She said, "Looking out the window and seeing a whole family of worms surrounding the chopper."
I glanced at my watch. "Probably within fifteen minutes."
"You don't need to be so cheerful about it."
I shrugged. "It's hard being right. You get cocky. Besides, what else can go wrong?"
She looked at me sharply. "You don't want this transfer, do you?"
"No, I don't," I said candidly. "I don't like the way it's been handled. It's been too abrupt. And I don't like leaving a job unfinished. We were making real progress in Colorado."
"Uh huh." She nodded. "You want to know something about that?"
"What?"
"Nobody's ever going to pull you off an important job unless the one they're putting you on is even more important. You might want to remember that. It's true even when there are other considerations."
She meant Duke.
Behind us, his breathing had gotten painfully loud. And it seemed even more ragged and uneven than before. I wondered if he was even going to last until the blimp arrived.
We sat in silence for a while.
Suddenly, Lizard said, "You son of a bitch."
"Huh?"
"You did it again." She pointed. I looked.
Outside the chopper, there was something moving through the edges of darkness-something just beyond the warm circle of our lights. Its eyes glimmered and flashed as it glanced toward us. It was that reflection that had given it away.
"Is the spotlight working?" I asked.
"The nose light is out, but I've got one overhead. Hang on." She touched her control panel. A bright beam sprang out across the clearing, suddenly catching the little silvery-pink figure by surprise-it was centered in the rosy pool of light. The creature blinked and froze in the sudden glare. It was round and furry and as cute as a baby abominable snowman. Pink dust hung in the air around it.
"Oh-" gasped Lizard. "Is that a bunnydog?" Her eyes widened in wonder.
"Yeah," I said sourly. I lifted the camera to my eye. The creature was only thigh-deep in the powder. That meant the cotton candy was settling.
"He doesn't seem scared of the light, does he?"
"No. Just curious. These creatures don't display much fear of anything. Do you see the others?" There were more bunnydogs in the dimness behind it. We could see them in the reflected glow. They were motionless too.
Lizard was grinning. "You just blew one. These are not worms."
I said, "I've still got ten minutes."
The bunnydog blinked and unfroze then. It scratched behind one ear, rubbed its face with its paws, made a face at us, then turned and ambled out of the spotlight.
"Well, I guess he told you," said Lizard.
"Yeah, but what?"
The other bunnydogs were getting curious now. One at a time, they began taking cautious little hops toward the chopper. They pushed through the powder in quick spurts of motion, stopping often to look ahead and ponder. They cocked their heads sideways to listen, their ears flopping open as they did so. I held my camera steady and recorded every moment of it. I thumbed the controls and zoomed in for closeups. These pictures were going to be important.
There was something funny about the shape of their mouths; they seemed permanently pouted-their muzzles were oddly blunted. As I watched, one of them straightened up and turned to its companion, pursing its lips as if kissing the air. The other replied with a kissy-face of its own. They looked like puppies who'd been pulled off Mamma's tit. Of course! Their mouths were shaped more for sucking than for chewing!
How very... odd.
I watched-and photographed-as the bunnydogs continued sniffing closer to the chopper. Every so often, one or another of them would lower its muzzle to the dust and suck and chew. Were they going for the powder-or the creatures feeding on the powder? I couldn't tell. But I knew it was important-it was part of the bigger question. Were these creatures sentient? Were they omnivores? Were these the sentients we were looking for?
Their nostrils and eyes were slits against the powder-but every so often, one of the creatures would pause and straighten and look at us, blinking its eyes wide for a quick curious instant; then we could see that the bunnydogs actually had very large round eyes. Puppydog eyes. Probably that was their normal configuration-when they weren't rump-deep in dust.
I said, "This is very very bad news."
Lizard glanced at me. "Huh?"
"We've been telling people that the Chtorran ecology is extraordinarily vicious, right?"
"Uh huh."
"And we've got pictures to prove it, right?"