Just as the worms are transforming-so am I. But into what?
If I knew, then the transformation would have already occurred, wouldn't it?
We cluster in the observation bay, scientists, technicians, aides, members of the airship crew, anyone with time on their hands. We stand around the railings and stare down at the somehow now pitiful animals. Their stripes flicker in bizarre reflections of the airship above. The poor things-they're enslaved to their biology. But I can't help thinking that we are just as enslaved to ours. We poor monkeys.
Monkeys and worms. Worms and monkeys. Locked in a death-struggle that neither side understands.
Another thought floats to the surface. There is no such thing as one monkey.
And what does that mean, I wonder?
Feral gastropedes should be considered insane and cannot be depended on to demonstrate the behavior of socialized individuals. Individual animals that do not demonstrate torpidity during the heat of the day or that do not do their hunting and eating at night should be treated with great caution as they are, in all probability, feral specimens.
During cold weather, however, this rule breaks down completely. All gastropedes should be considered especially dangerous in winter, because that is the time when they are likely to be most hungry, possibly even to the edge of starvation. Gastropedes do not hibernate and require large amounts of food to maintain their high internal temperatures. The notorious Show Low attack, for example, occurred late in the afternoon of a cold and cloudy January 4th.
—The Red Book,
(Release 22.19A)
Chapter 61
The Naming of Names
"All cats have the same name. It's pronounced exactly like the sound of a can opener."
-SOLOMON SHORT
Somehow we do our jobs.
As the probes go into the nests, we begin tagging individual specimens, trying to get a sense of the life of the mandala.
The probe is dropped, the harpoon is fired, the dart enters the skin, the transmitter activates itself, the nano-mites begin spreading out into the creature's body. The animal never seems to notice. We tag snufflers. We tag gorps. We tag bunnydogs. We tag worms. We tag the tribes, the families, and the individual animals. We tag everything.
Dr. Chris Swett postulates a correlation between bunny stripes and the colors of the family; later he expands this to include the individual tribe within the mandala. Still later, he finds another correlation between patterns on a snuffler's back and the stripes of the worms in the nest the snuffler services: A theory begins about life in the mandala; the gorps are free-lance garbage collectors. The snufflers are family servants, maids and gardeners. The bunnies identify with tribes more than families-they deliver the pizzas. Occasionally, they are the pizzas.
As we work, we assign them code names. The bunnydogs first. A monitor goes live, it's assigned its,own numbered channel, and a name is assigned to the monitor. The names pop out of the system like a polite stream of bubbles-BISCUIT, RERUN, HOT LIPS, MUPPET, SOMEWHERE, UNCLE DOG.
In the middle of the tagging, a game begins. We start ignoring the code words and begin naming the animals after people we know: SETH, JACK, RICHARD, DIANE, RAYMOND, BILL, HARVEY, JOHANNA, KAREN, LYDIA, ART, SUSIE, TOM, JERRY, ALAN, RICH, AMY, LINDA, CHELSEA, HOWARD, ROBERT, GINNY, ANNE, TODD, GIGI, ALEC, FRANK, BEN, BARBARA, SPIDER, JEANNE, JEFF, CAROL, NEIL, JANET, CHIP, ENZER, CARROLL, ROBERTS, MOEHLE, POWERS, GANS, NASH, MURPHY, FARREN, HAYDEN, ALICE, JON, MOLLIE, MATTHEW, CINDY, PHYLLIS, RACHEL, JIM, BETTY, MAE BETH, RANDALL, STEPHEN, RANDO, DAVID, FORREST, DENNIS, MICHAEL, JOHN, PAUL, GEORGE, RINGO, MICK, BUSTER, CHARLIE, STAN, OLLIE, BUD, LOU, GROUCHO, HARPO, CHICO, ZEPPO, LUCY, RICKY, FRED, ETHEL, BILLIE, PEGGY, SOPHIE, LILY, BETTE, MISS PIGGY, KERMTf, MICKEY, DONALD, GOOFY, ELMER, BUGS, DAFFY, ROTTY, SLEEPY, SNEEZY, BASHFUL, GRUMPY, HAPPY, DOC, DOPEY, SNOOPY
It's inappropriate to give them female names, of course. All the bunnydogs are male; but some of them are so pink and sweet and cuddly-looking that emotion wins out over reason. Besides, there are too many of the little monsters. We tag over a thousand of them on the first day alone.
Later… we start naming the worms. LOVECRAFT, POE, WELLS, DOYLE, SAKI, KING, ELLISON, BLOCH, YARBRO, GRANT, CTHULHU, ARKHAM, BALROG, SAURON, GOJIItA, VESUVIUS, KRAKATOA, HIROSHIMA, NAGASAKI, SCHICKELGRUBER, NAPOLEON, ATTILA, NIXON, MAO, STALIN, AUGUSTUS, TIBERIUS, CALIGULA, CLAUDIUS, NERO. We tag one tribe of worms while they're singing: BACH, BEETHOVEN, BERNSTEIN, BRAHMS, MOZART, BRUCKNER, WAGNER, TCHAIKOVSKY, CHOPIN, RAVEL, STRAVINSKY, MUSSORGSKY, DEBUSSY, PROKOFIEV, SHOSTAKOVICH, LISZT, RACHMANINOFF, HOLST, ORFF, PAGANINI, GILBERT, SULLIVAN, RODGERS, HAMMERSTEIN, SONDHEIM, WEBBER, WILLIAMS, GOLDSMITH-and just who the hell was VAN DYKE PARKS?
Then one of the technicians, William Benson, made a wild remark while studying the large overhead display. He said, "My sister's hair is the same color as that worm. Almost as many different stripes."
"What's your sister's name?" Dr. Swett asked.
"Carolyn Jane."
"Right," Swett replied. "CAROLYN JANE BENSON it is." He typed it into the register, then glanced up at the screen and shuddered. "Please tell me that's not her natural color."
CAROLYN JANE BENSON was a strident orange worm showing brilliant stripes of flaming red and yellow; there were disturbing tracks of black outlining some of the brighter colors.
"When we get back, I'll fix you up with her. You can see for yourself."
"Please don't do me any favors. I don't ever want to see anything that red again."
CAROLYN JANE BENSON humped across the screen, disappeared off one display, and appeared a moment later on another. It was a rotund animal, sleek and bright and gaudy-undeniably proud. For some reason, I thought of a samurai warrior in medieval Japan, stalking haughtily through a village of respectful peasants. Whatever family CAROLYN JANE BENSON came from, it was definitely a family to be treated with caution-probably the whole tribe.
"Let me name the next one," said Brickner. He waited until the channel blinked active, then announced, "This one is DUPA. DUPA T. PARROT."
"You wanna explain that, George?"
"Nope."
Six people turned and looked at him. "Aw, come on-" Brickner just smiled to himself and repeated the national mantra. "Everybody's crazy. I get to be crazy in my own way. Good night, Mrs. Calabash, whoever you are."
Benson nudged Swett. "Don't worry about it. Some people have a funny way of paying off old grudges. Friedman over there named his last six worms after a herd of lawyers he once had a run-in with."
"Ugh. He must really hate worms."
"He said it's appropriate. Those are the worms we're putting radioactive darts into, to see how long they take to die."
Chris Swett swiveled in his chair. "What about you, Cap'n? You have anyone you want to name a worm after?"
I shook my head politely. "Sorry. I can't think of anyone who really deserves the honor."
"How about Bellus? Or Dannenfelser?"
I just smiled weakly and refused to be baited. "Nope. That's unfair to the worm. Worms don't have a choice. People do."
"Come on," said Benson. "You have to name one. Everybody does."
"Oh, all right-that big fellow up there. The nasty-looking one. Call him ROBISON. NASTY JOHN ROBISON. And the other one, the deep purple one, you can call him FOREMAN. All right? You happy now?"
"Ecstatic."
Shreiber wandered through at one point and casually dubbed the five members of one particularly noisy nest HAIRY GARCIA, BOB WEIRD, PHIL LEECH, BILL CRUSTMAN, and MICKEY HEART-ATTACK. Brickner, Benson, and Swett exchanged puzzled glances. I didn't get it either. Probably some old TV show. I could look it up later.
By the third day, we were starting to get some good data on some of the families and tribes and nations within the mandala. We started naming the nations first-AMERICA, RUSSIA, ENGLAND, FRANCE, MEXICO. We named the tribes after cities-NEW YORK, LOS ANGELES, SAN FRANCISCO, DENVER, HONOLULU, LONDON, LIVERPOOL, BIRMINGHAM, MANCHESTER, PARIS, NICE, BREST, MARSEILLES, MOSCOW, ST. PETERSBURG, KIEV, LA PAZ, TIJUANA, MAZATLAN, ACAPULCO. We named the families within each tribe after suburbs-HOLLYWOOD, BEVERLY HILLS, BURBANK, MANHATTAN, BROOKLYN, YONKERS, NEW JERSEY-until our memories failed us and we had to dial up the world atlas for more names.