For a while, the window was covered with carnage. "I think I hate them," Lizard said.
"Careful," I said.
"Huh?"
"You're anthropomorphizing. You're making judgments about these creatures. Your species prejudice is showing. What if the finger-babies are really embryonic worms?"
She looked at me, startled. "You don't really think so?"
"No, I don't-but I just wanted to caution you not to make assumptions. I already made one mis-assumption about the bunnydogs. I don't want to make any more. These things are probably some kind of newt-like organism with a coincidental resemblance. In their adult form, they could be vicious serpents. Or maybe not. Don't make hasty judgments."
Lizard grunted. That was her only answer. We both fell silent again.
Something snake-like with a red belly slithered across my side of the window. It had a thousand flashing legs, and it plowed through the other life-forms like a vacuum cleaner. Oh no. "Lizard," I said.
"Yes?"
"You'd better call for help."
"Huh?" She looked at me. "I thought you said we were safe."
"I may have to revise that estimate. You were wondering what comes next?" I pointed. "See that? That's a Chtorran millipede. If that's what comes next, we'd better get out of here. I don't think the shelterfoam will stop them."
TWENTY-THREE
WE GOT the call at twenty-two hundred hours.
The radio beeped. Lizard leaned forward and flicked it on. "This is ELDAVO."
"All right, here's the scoop. The blimp is on its way. They left Portland an hour ago. They've got a full rescue and medical team aboard. They should be over you by midnight. They're homing in on your beam."
"What about the dust?"
"They're aware of the problem. We all are. There isn't an engine running in the Sacramento Valley today-at least none that were left exposed. But Portland has the most experience with this kind of problem-you can thank Mount Saint Helens for that. They've already got the necessary technology on the shelf."
"I'll send a thank-you note to the volcano," Lizard said.
"They'll be monitoring the air all the way in. When they start hitting ten particles per million, they'll shut down the jets and drift with the wind till they're overhead."
"Drift?" asked Lizard skeptically.
"That's right. But they've jury-rigged a cold-rocket assist for local guidance. They can maneuver, and you won't have to worry about the fire danger. If they have to, they can fly on canned air for a short distance-at least far enough to get out of the pink if they head out over the ocean. It's all been thought out."
"I've heard that one before," Lizard said. "How are they going to hold their position over us?"
"They'll fire grapples into the ground and moor themselves. Then they'll lower a basket and pull you up."
"Listen-" said Lizard. "We've got a problem with that."
"What's that?"
"We're in the middle of a feeding frenzy here. Once we pop the hatch, we have maybe thirty seconds. If that. We've got a millipede swarm."
"We know about the millipedes. You're not the only ones down in the dust. We've been getting reports that would curl your hair."
I leaned forward at that. "How bad is it?" I asked.
"You don't want to know."
"Yes I do," I insisted.
"We think we lost Redding. All communications are down. We can't get anything into the area. You think you got it bad? The Northern California Eyeball scan shows nothing but pink desert-and there were some tall buildings in Redding."
"Redding?" But that was eighty kilometers north of here. A terrible suspicion was creeping coldly up my spine. "Just how extensive is the dust?"
"The whole northern half of the state is out. Everything. It's all been brought to a halt. Sacramento took another five inches this afternoon. "
Lizard and I exchanged a glance. From Redding to Sacramento? "You'll see it from the blimp. If the wind holds up, you might be in Oakland-or Sacramento-by tomorrow afternoon."
"Any more good news?" Lizard asked.
"The Dodgers blew it in the eighth."
"Thanks." She signed off, turned and looked at me. "So. No lobster tonight either." Then she noticed my expression and asked, "What's that about?"
"Nothing," I said. I climbed out of my seat and headed toward the back of the ship to look at Duke's medi-console. He was stable, but...
I pulled back the blanket to look at the pink fur on his legs again. The fur was noticeably longer. There were red and purple strands too.
Lizard squatted down opposite me; she searched my face. "Nothing, huh?"
"All right," I admitted. "I'm worried about Duke. He smells pretty bad-and I don't know what's going on with his legs. That fur is growing. Even if we could get him out of here tonight, we'd still be a long way from the kind of care he needs. And you heard the man. Tomorrow afternoon."
She picked up the medi-console and studied its display. Duke was on the last red ampule. There was no more glucose. I'd been waking him up periodically to give him sugar water laced with blue-series antibiotics. It was the best I could do. I couldn't think of anything else.
I knelt down for a closer examination of the pink fur on Duke's legs. It was growing out of his blackened skin like grass creeping back toward ground zero. Tentatively, I let it brush the palm of my hand. It was tingly. I pressed it gently flat-the tingly sensation got stronger.
"He's waking up-" said Lizard.
I straightened up again and took the console from Lizard. The display said Duke was still sound asleep.
"No he's not-" I looked back at Duke's legs. I stretched over and touched the fur again; I stroked a long length of it. The mediconsole display went crazy. It said Duke was running up a hillno, having a heart attack-no, it wasn't sure. PLEASE WAIT. It couldn't interpret. INCREASED NERVOUS ACTIVITY. And again, PLEASE WAIT.
I pulled open the medical supplies and studied the color-coded chart inside. There it was.
Terramycin.
I looked at Duke's legs again.
But it was such a long shot. It was a very stupid risk to take. "What are you thinking?" asked Lizard.
"I'm thinking of doing something stupid," I said.
"How stupid?"
"It's never been done before." I popped the plastic ampule out of the kit. "That's worm fur growing out of Duke's legs. This stuff should kill it. Most of it, anyway. Remember the worm in Denver? That's what happened to it."
She frowned unhappily. "I don't know what to tell you, McCarthy. I'm not a doctor."
"I'm not asking your permission. I know more about this than you do. This is one I have to call."
"You're right," she agreed.
"I know." I closed my eyes. Please God ... let me be really right. I clipped the ampule into place on the feeder.
The medi-console beeped. TERRAMYCIN? it Queried. I touched the CONFIRM button.
There was nothing to do now but wait.
We covered Duke up again and climbed back to the front of the chopper. The copilot's seat was beginning to get uncomfortable. It creaked as I sank into it. I picked up a flashlight and studied the bugs on the window again. I couldn't identify even half the creatures I saw. But the ones I could identify were enough to terrify me.
"The real problem," I said, "is I don't know how we're going to get him out of here. I don't know how we're going to get us out of here. I don't think it's safe to open that hatch." I pointed the flashlight toward the top of the windshield. The beam illuminated four red-bellied millipedes slithering down its curved surface even as I spoke. One of them curled itself around to point its eyes downward. It peered curiously at us, irising its eyes open and shut in confused blinks.