"It implies communication," she concluded.
The president turned to the tall dark-haired woman. "Dr. Zymph? Would you elaborate?"
Dr. Zymph straightened her notes in front of her. She studied them for a moment, then looked up again. "The question is this. What is the nature of the human-Chtorran relationship? Now that we know that communication is possible--0n whatever level it occurs-we have to reconsider all of our actions in that light.
"The possibility of communication reopens the opportunity for negotiation. Or does it? Do the Chtorrans recognize human beings as sentient or not? Would they recognize a human government? Would they make a treaty with us? Could we deal with their human intermediaries? It all hinges on the nature of that humanworm relationship.
"We need to consider the possibilities here. Is it a true partnership? A symbiosis? Is it a master and slave relationship? In which case, who are the masters in that camp? Or is it, as some have postulated, a circumstance of one species using the other as cattle?
"There is evidence to support all of those possibilities. None of it is compelling. It may be that the relationship in that camp is still in a state of flux. It may be that all of those possibilities exist to some degree or other. Or it may be some kind of relationship that we cannot comprehend because it is beyond our experience . . ."
"Excuse me, Ma'am." That was General Wainright again. He spoke in a soft southern drawl. That was a danger sign. It was a thin cover for his sarcasm. Usually, his demeanor was crisp. He said, "Y'are gonna answer some of these questions, aren't you?"
Dr. Zymph did not look annoyed. She merely looked back at him with a pleasant expression. "As a matter of fact, no, I'm not. We don't have the answers. Yet. What we have are some very good guesses based on some very bad evidence. That's the problem. We have to make our recommendations based on less than acceptable information."
The general leaned back in his chair. I couldn't tell if he was annoyed or satisfied that he'd trapped Dr. Zymph into admitting something. He said, "Well, with all due respect-could we cut to the chase?"
Dr. Zymph pushed her notes away. She looked upset. "The issue is this, General. We don't know what we're doing here. If we nuke that camp, we may be throwing away our opportunity at establishing a detente of some sort."
"Doctor," the general looked fierce. "There will be no detente with worms. This is a war. They are the enemy. If we talk detente, we might as well talk surrender-and walk willingly into their stewpots. Or have you forgotten? The worms are responsible for the deaths of over seven billion human beings-more than three quarters of our species is gone. Do you think that they now have some pressing reason to respect the rights of the rest of us? I doubt it a lot!"
Dr. Zymph waited till he ran down. Then she said, "As a matter of fact, so do I."
The general leaned back in his chair looking satisfied. I noticed that the President was holding a pen between her two hands, looking from one to the other. She was making no sign to interrupt.
Dr. Zymph said, "General, I have not lost sight of the larger context. However, we need to notice that something is going on here that does not appear to fit into that context. Is it possible that we are seeing the beginnings of a new context?"
"Well, Ma'am, when you figger that one out, let me know. We'll be just as happy to nuke the recontextualized worms as we are to nuke the old-fashioned kind."
When the laughter died down, Dr. Zymph turned to the president. "I'm through," she said quietly. "Are you clear on the question?"
The president nodded. She looked to the rest of us. "Is everybody else clear on the question? What is the nature of that human-Chtorran relationship? It very definitely affects the decision that we have to make here. Let me translate that into military language for General Wainright. Are those humans in those camps our enemies or our allies?"
She looked across the table at Colonel Tirelli. "Elizabeth," she said. "I believe you have some information on that. I think now would be a good time to bring that out."
Colonel Tirelli stood then. "Yes, Ma'am. Thank you." She addressed the room. "As you know, we've had the devil's own time trying to infiltrate worm zones. We've sent in a number of telepaths. We've lost them all." I wondered if Ted had been one of those.
She continued, "The bulk of our information about the human/Chtorran interface has come from captured renegades. Most of them have been so psychotic that communication has been next to impossible. We do know that there is an interface, though: It has been directly observed by one of our best agents." She stepped back and put a hand on my shoulder. "This is Captain McCarthy. He's spent the past year observing the worms in a wide variety of habitats. He has had personal experience with the renegades."
I noticed that General Wainright's aide was punching something into his clipboard. After a moment, he handed the clipboard over to the general, who studied it a moment and then raised his hand.
"Excuse me, Colonel . . ." He was holding up the clipboard. "But I can't find Captain McCarthy in the computer."
"Of course not," said Lizard. "I took him out."
"You what-?" The general's voice rose angrily. "Those files are supposed to be tamper-proof."
"Yes, they are," said Lizard. "That's why I took all record of Captain McCarthy out of them. I couldn't trust them. Captain McCarthy's role has been so secret that we wouldn't even trust our own security."
Somebody started to say something to that. Lizard cut him off. "I'm not going to defend that. We do know that the renegades have pirate terminals. We do know that they have access to ordnance. I suspect that's how we've been losing our telepaths. The only thing that may have protected Captain McCarthy's life is the fact that we've kept him out of the data banks."
General Wainright was still working with his clipboard. He said abruptly, "It says here, that a Lieutenant James Edward McCarthy was killed in battle fourteen months ago. Is this the same man?"
"As a matter of fact, yes."
"It also says here that he may still be alive, but a deserter. Is that correct?"
"If you'll look, I put that note in myself. That's part of Captain McCarthy's cover. We had no way of knowing who had access to that file. We had to give him what cover we could. Other than that, there has been no direct contact between Captain McCarthy and the agency since that time. He let us know when he wanted to come back in."
General Wainright looked unconvinced. "What is it you're trying to get at, General?"
"I'm not trying to get at anything, Colonel. All I want is some validation for this man's credential. Obviously, this is Captain McCarthy. He's not dead yet. But is he what you say he is-one of your agents--0r is he a deserter who will say whatever you need to have said to prove your point?" He added. "No offense intended, of course."
Lizard smiled. Her smile was deadly. "And none taken. You can't insult me. However, you do insult the intelligence of this body if you suggest that they can be so easily gulled." Lizard indicated the room.
The president interrupted then. "General, please-I respect your commitment to the truth. But this isn't producing results. I want to hear what Captain McCarthy has to say. We can question his judgment, intelligence, sanity, and moral character afterward." Her eyes were twinkling. "That's the way we always did it in Congress, and that's the way we will do it here."
She said to Lizard, "Colonel? You may continue."
Lizard poked me. "Stand up." She continued, "Captain McCarthy was assigned to routine reconnaissance in California. That was a cover. His real purpose was to infiltrate a renegade Tribe. As intended, Captain McCarthy allowed himself to be captured and taken prisoner. He was given the choice of collaborating or dying. He chose to collaborate. That is, he pretended to collaborate. Part of what he had to do to win the trust of the renegades was to teach them how to access classified information and how to use restricted military ordnance." Lizard held up a hand to cut off General Wainright who looked ready to explode. "Sir, if you please-McCarthy knew what he was doing. He didn't reveal any information which had not already been compromised. If that band of renegades didn't know it, they would have known it soon enough-as soon as they plugged into the Chtorrans' communication network."