I was hoping the millipedes would ignore him, but one of them chose that moment to uncurl. No longer restrained, and finding no reason to keep hiding, it began exploring its surroundings; its antennae waved tentatively, first forward, then back, then randomly in all directions. After a moment, it slithered across the floor and even part way up the walls of the cage, giving me a good look at its soft underside. Soft? It was a deep disturbing purple with dark bands separating the-what?-they looked like segments. I could see how all the shells were jointed; the creature's body was a train of tiny armored cars on legs.
The millipede tested the aluminum frame with its feelers and tried to poke its head through the wire mesh. For a moment, it seemed to be staring right at me; its eyes were black discs the size of quarters. They made me think of Chtorran eyes. They weren't faceted like normal insect eyes.
It pulled back then and continued exploring, coming at last to the sliver of biscuit. The millipede touched it lightly with its probing antennae, then ate it. It simply moved forward, chewing as it went, until there was no more left. "Hey," said Louis, grinning. "He likes it. Here, have some more." He shoved the rest of the biscuit into the cage.
The millipede made short work of this piece too. One of the others uncurled then and also began exploring the coop. "Hey, Louis," said one of the men. "Now you gotta feed the other one."
Louis glanced around. His eye fell on the chicken sandwich that Sam was still working on. " 'Scuse me, kitty, but I need this."
"Maoww-" Sam protested loudly, but to no avail. Louis tore the bread into pieces and pushed it through the mesh. Sam licked his chops deliberately, hoping the chicken wouldn't follow.
He was wrong. "Let's see what else they like," said Louis, and the chicken was pushed through the wire as well. Also the lettuce and tomato.
"Looks like we have to apologize for hurt felines," remarked Ted. "Here, Sam, drown your sorrows in some milk."
"Mrowwt, " said Sam. But he drank the milk.
Meanwhile, the third millipede had uncurled and joined its fellows in consuming the feast before them. "Look, they like chicken too."
"And lettuce. And tomato." Ted looked at me. "I wonder if there's anything they don't like."
"The stuff inside the enclosure wall," I said. "They don't like that. I brought back a sample for you to analyze." I pulled the plastic bag from my pouch.
Ted opened it and sniffed. "I hate to tell you what it smells like." He wrinkled his nose and closed it up again.
Louis was still at the cage. He poked his finger through the mesh and clucked. "Pretty baby, come to Poppa. . . ." I could understand his fascination with them. They seemed somehow more intelligent than mere insects. It was their eyes; they were large and round and dark, they were almost soft-like puppy eyes; they were all pupil. And it was the way they looked at you through those eyes-peering and turning toward every sound, studying each object with dispassionate curiosity. They seemed knowing. These creatures were to ordinary bugs as an owl is to other birds -clearly the same type of creature, but definitely something more. One of the millipedes rose up into the air to sniff Louis's finger
-and suddenly bit it.
"Aaii-Hey!!" He jerked his finger back, but the millipede had a firm grip. For a moment, Louis was caught there while the creature thrashed about within the cage-then he broke free, blood streaming from the missing joint. "Aaah! Son of a bitch!" he gasped.
Someone wrapped a paper napkin around his hand; it quickly stained red. "Get him to the doctor!" said someone else. Two men hustled Louis out the door. He was making little gasping sounds.
In the cage, the millipedes were unperturbed. Their black eyes were suddenly baleful.
"I should have warned him," I said.
Ted looked at me. "Did you know they would do that?" I shook my head.
"Then shut up. It was his own fault for putting his finger in the cage. Sometimes Louis can be a real fool. Tonight he outdid himself. The bugs must have- thought it was still feeding time." He put on a thoughtful expression. "These things do have an appetite, don't they?"
"So do Chtorrans," I said, remembering. "Here. These were in the enclosure too." I passed him the empty shells and body sections.
Ted raised an eyebrow.
"Lunch," I explained. I pointed at the cage. "The Chtorrans eat them."
"Sounds risky," he quipped. "But it makes sense. And better them than us." Then he thought of something. "Say, how did you catch them without getting attacked yourself?"
"I don't know-they just didn't seem interested in me. I thought I was safe and I was."
"Hm." Ted frowned. "There must have been a reason."
"Maybe I'm just inedible."
"So? Stick your finger in the cage and prove it."
"On the other hand," I said quickly, "maybe there's some other reason."
Ted looked disappointed. "Spoilsport-it would have been a valid test."
"If you're so eager, you stick your finger in."
"Ah, but it's not my inedibility we're testing. No, you're right; there must be some other reason. You're probably edible, just not very tasty. How did you go into the enclosure? Just hold your nose and jump?"
"No, I tested with my foot first. I waved it above their heads to see if they'd attack."
"Well, so you're smarter than I thought. I would have guessed you crossed your fingers and hollered 'King's X" Maybe they just don't like shoe leather-let's find out." He pulled off a boot and pressed one side of it against the mesh. All three of the millipedes attacked it. "Well, that settles that."
Then he tried to pull his boot away. But their combined grip was too strong. "Aww, come on, now-" Not wanting to hurt them by pulling harder, he let go of the boot. It hung there while the insectoids chewed at it and the men around us snickered. The millipedes ate until they could chew no further and the boot clunked to the floor.
Ted picked it up sadly and fingered the holes in it. "My best pair of boots," he mourned. He sighed and pulled it back on, all the while shaking his head. He looked at me. "Okay, let's have one of yours-"
"Huh? Are you crazy? You just got through proving that they like shoe leather-why do you want to ruin my boots too?"
"Dummy," he said patiently, "this is a scientific experiment to determine why you're still walking around. Now, let me have one of your boots before I break off your leg and beat you to death with it."
He was right. I'd seen the way the millipedes had attacked his footgear. It was identical to mine and the millipedes had ignored me. I pulled off my boot and handed it across.
He held it up to the mesh. The millipedes tested it with their antennae, then lost interest in it and wandered away. Ted tried it again on the other side. The millipedes did the same thing.
Ted frowned and held the boot close to his face. He sniffed. Once, twice, a third time, curiously. "Smells fishy. What'd you step in?"
"Nothing," I said. Then remembered. "Uh-eggs."
"Eggs-? You mean like in chicken, cluck-cluck-cluck?"
"No. I mean like in Chtorran."
His expression was incredulous. "You stepped on Chtorran eggs-?"
"It was inside the nest-"
"Inside the nest-? Yipe! I take it all back, Jimmy boy. You're not smart at all. There's a safer way to kill Chtorrans than by walking into their nests and stomping on their eggs. What do you think flamethrowers are for?"
"I didn't mean to step on the eggs. It was an accident."
"I hope you told that to Mamma Chtorran."
"Besides, Duke was going to burn them anyway, so I climbed down and saved a few."