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We were hastily evacuated back down to ground level. A makeshift floor of paneling had been laid out, and large pieces of mylar from the collapsed gasbags were being rigged as shelters. In the distance, I could see lightning, and at one point, I heard rain pattering around us; but wherever they'd stashed me, it was mostly dry: Some kind of tent. I was strapped to a board. I couldn't see who was on the cot next to me. Later, I found out it was Benson. His chest had been crushed by a sliding crate, and he could barely breathe. He was on a maintenance box, and his breath rasped in and out like a dying engine.

Emergency lights had been strung, and from time to time, Dr. Meier or one of her assistants passed through and clucked appreciatively over me and sadly over Benson. There wasn't really a lot they could do for either of us but keep us warm and wait for morning. Nobody would answer my questions about the whereabouts of Lizard or the rescue choppers, and I got the feeling that something terrible had gone Wrong somewhere.

Later, Shaun stopped by to give me a canteen and some P-rations. "What's going on?" I asked him. At first he wouldn't answer, but I grabbed his arm and said, "Goddammit, I'm not a baby! You don't have to keep secrets from me. Where's General Tirelli? Where are the choppers?"

"They're still looking for survivors. The choppers will be here in the morning."

"Who's looking? And what about the choppers from Yuana Moloco? The ones that were delivering all that helium?"

Shaun looked pained. "Everybody's looking. But there's a column of worms heading toward us. They're following the trail we left for them all the way from the mandala. The choppers are laying down smoke and aerogel. If that doesn't work, they're going to use fuel-air explosives."

"How far away?"

"They could be here before morning. We're going to have a fight on our hands."

"Get me a torch and put me on the line-"

"I'll tell Lieutenant Siegel."

"I gotta see him, Shaun."

"I'll tell him. He's awfully busy."

"He's never been up against anything like this. He needs my help-"

"Captain-" Shaun was extraordinarily polite. "Listen to me. You're sensitive to central nervous system depressants, so we've got you on a PKD-series. You're drugged to the gills, you're hallucinating like a video display, and putting a torch in your hands would be one of the stupidest things we could do."

"Thanks for your vote of confidence. I feel fine."

"That's the biggest hallucination."

"Shaun, I gotta find Lizard."

"Captain, why don't you trust somebody else to do their job once in a while? You can't do it all yourself-"

"Because they'll fuck it up! Shaun, I'm the only one who knows-"

He pushed me back down onto the bed. "If you try to get out of that bed, you'll lose your leg. If I have to, I'll strap you down myself. And then, when I have you safely strapped down-" He leered at me salaciously. "Is that enough of a threat to make you behave?"

"Shaun, please!"

"No," he said. He was angry. "You listen to me. Everything is under control-"

"I don't believe you."

"Then fuck you!" he said. "I'm trying to help you, goddammit!"

"This isn't helping me! You really want to help? Get me a crutch, a cane, anything!"

"The hell with you-" He reshouldered his weapon and ducked out of the tent. His weapon? What the-?

Later, I heard alarms and sirens. I heard explosions and the sounds of torches and rocket launchers. I thought I smelled smoke. Somebody went running by the tent, but they ignored my cries. I was alone with my terror, my worst imaginings, and the dreadful rattle of Benson's labored breathing.

When an adult jellypig is injured or killed, the body is flooded with triggering hormones; the unborn jellypigs within the adult become extremely agitated and begin eating their way ravenously out of the body of the parent.

A baby jellypig is incapable of telling the, difference between the flesh of its parent and, the stomach lining of the predator that devoured its parent. While this suggests that millipedes and gastropedes are liable to suffer serious internal injuries from eating jellypigs, we have not yet seen any evidence to confirm this. Further investigation remains necessary.

It should also be noted here that the swarming behavior of infant jellypigs is not always triggered by an injury to or the death of the parent. If an adult jellypig slows down or becomes inactive for any reason, its offspring will also begin hatching.

In other words, if and when a jellypig reaches such a size that it becomes fat and lethargic and unable to move itself vigorously, its children will eat it alive from the inside out.

—The Red Book,

 (Release 22.19A)

Chapter 74

Lopez

"The manual only makes sense after you learn the program."

-SOLOMON SHORT

I was looking around for some way to pull myself to my feet when Lopez peeked in. "You okay?"

"No, goddammit! Nobody's telling me anything!"

"What do you need to know?"

"What's happening? Where's Lizard? What was all that shooting? Where are the choppers?"

Lopez took the canteen down from where it was hanging and handed it to me. "You want some water?"

"No. I want some answers." I took the canteen anyway. I

"Look, I know you're upset-"

"Spare me the hand-holding. Just give me a straight status report."

Lopez took a breath. "Okay," she said. "We haven't found General Tirelli yet. We're still looking. It's kinda hard to get to where the forward lounge was. It's all crumpled up, and it's caught at the top of a very high tree. But we're not giving up. She's not the only one missing, and we're still finding people-"

"And bodies?"

Lopez nodded uncomfortably. "We've got a morgue, yes. And everybody's identified. Believe me, we're going to find everybody before the choppers arrive. They're pulling everyone out as fast as they can. As soon as the sun comes up. But the whole ship is spread across the jungle canopy, and it covers a lot of territory. You know that. We've rigged some stairs and ladders to get up into it, so we can pull down the things we need, medical equipment, ordnance, food, water, blankets, cots, everything-but it's a crazy situation. Most of the ship is at a thirty-degree angle, parts of it are tilted as badly as sixty degrees. And there's a lot to do, and not a lot of us left to do it." I thought for a moment that she was going to add, "So please be patient," but she didn't.

"What was all the shooting?"

"Worms. Only a few. Probably locals. The jungle is fairly thick between here and the mandala, and the ground is rough. There's also a couple of big rivers in the way. That's slowing down the bulk of the column. You heard about the column of worms? We've got spybirds tracking with them-they're not moving as fast as we thought. But they are headed directly toward us."

"How reliable is this information?"

"We've got communications buoys up." The buoys were tethered balloons with silver-metal skin and studded with rightangle dimples to create a maximum radar image. The things looked like inflated golf balls, only all the dimples were threesided, as if they had been poked in by the corner of a cube. Any beam hitting the dimple would bounce directly back to its source and generate a bright solid blip. The tether doubled as an antenna for transmissions. The ground anchor was a six-week power supply. A communication buoy was always visible to any network satellite above the horizon.

"Defenses?" I asked.

Lopez nodded. "The contingency plans you wrote-for the most part, they're working. You did good. We're spraying aerogel. We've got prowlers and mines. We've got twelve torches and fifteen rocket launchers. We're okay-"