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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!"