David Gerrold - A Matter for Men

"I didn't know centipedes grew so big," said Larry.

"They don't," I answered, suddenly remembering something from my plague-aborted course in entomology. "And they don't have four antennae either. Their mouths aren't shaped like miniature garbage disposals, their eyes aren't so large and they aren't herbivorous-they shouldn't be eating those walls at all. These aren't millipedes."

Larry shrugged. "Well, if they're not, they'll do until the real thing comes along."

"I don't know what these are," I said. "I've never seen anything that even resembles them before. Real millipedes don't have as many legs or body sections. Look how they're segmented-and what are those humps behind the eyes? And what are they doing here?" I indicated the enclosure.

"Isn't it obvious? This is the Chtorran larder. They like their food fresh. They keep it in this corral until they're hungry. Look." He pointed again. "See that? Somebody was having a snack earlier.

I saw a pile of discarded shells and disjointed body sections. I repressed a shudder-these millipedes were nothing more than food for Chtorrans. They were live lunch from the planet Chtorr!

"Hey! These things are extraterrestrial too! The Chtorrans brought them! I've got to catch one!"

He stared at me. "Are you crazy-? Those things might be man-eaters."

"I doubt it," I said. "If they were, they wouldn't be chewing on wood." It sounded good to me.

"They might be poisonous-"

I shook my head again. "Herbivorous creatures never are; they don't need it."

"How do you know they're only herbivorous? They might have a taste for meat as well."

That made me pause-but not for long. "There's only one way to find out. Help me down."

He set his jaw stubbornly. "No."

"Larry," I said, "this is every bit as important as burning worms. Anything we can find out about them will help us destroy them."

"I'm not going to help you get killed."

"Then I'll do it myself-" I took a step upward on the ramp; another one and I was beyond the wall; a third and it began to teeter precariously. Larry took a step back down to stop it.

"Look," I said to him, "somebody's got to do it."

He didn't answer, just took another step downward to counterbalance my weight. I stared at him until he looked away. I took another step up. One more and the ramp began to lower slowly on my side. I took another step and the rate of swing increased.

Larry started to move-too slowly. He said a word and gave up. He adjusted his position to keep the ramp from moving too fast. "Okay," he growled, "but if you get your legs chewed off, don't come running to me."

I grinned. "Thanks,"-then had to grab suddenly to keep from toppling off. The ramp kept swinging-Larry rose above me unhappily-till my end touched ground near the center of the corral with a thump. I found myself balanced in an awkward position and had to scramble around in order to climb down more easily-or up, if I had to. I looked down warily. A couple of the millipedes had already begun inspecting the foot of the ladder, and one of them had even begun to chew on it. But so far, none of them had made any attempt to climb out. If anything, most were moving away from it. Had they learned already to associate the lowering of the ramp with predatory Chtorrans? It seemed likely.

I swallowed and began climbing down. About a foot above the ground, I paused. I held my leg out carefully to see if they would jump or snap at it. One of them rose halfway up as if to sniff, but almost immediately lost interest. I waved my foot above another. He rose up too, and even grabbed hold; I flinched, but held still and waited as he flicked his antennae back and forth across the toe of my boot. After a second, he lost interest too and dropped away. I managed a weak grin and lowered my foot to the ground. "Well, that's one more giant step for mankind." I was breathing a little easier.

The millipedes showed no alarm at my presence. If one did come in contact with my shoes, he either turned away or climbed over them as if I were just one more bump in the landscape. Mostly, they ignored me.

I wondered if it would be safe to pick one of them up with my bare hands, or even with my gloves on. I poked one of the creatures with the tip of the torch and immediately it curled into a ball, showing only its shiny black shell. Okay, so maybe that established they were cowards, but they still had mouths like miniature scrap-metal processors-you know, the kind that can reduce a new Cadillac cruiser into assorted pellets of steel and plastic, none larger than an inch across. I decided to play it safe.

That was when I found out how ill-equipped my sample pouch really was. I didn't have anything to carry them in. A plastic bag? Uh uh, they could go through that in seconds; a creature that can chew its way through wood foam and wood chips isn't going to be stopped by anything less. I wished I'd had the foresight to bring some wire-based netting. Should I risk my canvas pouch? It didn't seem a good idea. I had no guarantee that a captured millipede would stay politely curled up all the way back to base or until I could find a proper cage for it.

I wondered-I was wearing a polymer-asbestoid liner between myself and the torch harness, also a shock vest. The vest alone should be enough-at least I hoped it would-so I began shrugging out of the tanks again.

"Hey!" called Larry. "What the hell are you doing?" "Taking a shower," I called back. Then, "Relax. I know what I'm doing."

He scowled doubtfully, but shut up and looked unhappy. I took off the liner and dropped it to the ground, then I pulled the tanks back on. Two of the millipedes explored the plastic-looking shirt without much curiosity, then wandered away. Good. I hoped that meant they'd found it inedible.

Quickly, I poked the three nearest specimens with the nozzle of the torch. They curled up obediently. I rolled them onto the asbestoid cloth, made a sack out of it and tied it at the top by looping the sleeves around and tying them in a hasty knot. My pouch was beginning to bulge like the belly of a pregnant hippo -and I must have looked every bit as proud. As a sample-collecting trip, this was turning into quite a bonanza. First the eggs; now the millipedes. For good measure, I added a piece of the enclosure wall and some of the pitchy substance that filled it, also a few of the discarded shells and body sections from the recent Chtorran snack.

Larry was visibly relieved when I began climbing out. I think the idea of a man going willingly into a Chtorran larder-even if only to look around-was too much for him. He waited until I was almost to the top and then shifted his weight to seesaw the ramp up from the center and down on the outside.

We climbed down together; it was wide enough for that. At the bottom, Larry looked at me with grudging respect. "I gotta admit," he said, "that took guts. I wouldn'ta done it. I don't like bugs of any kind."

I shrugged. "I was only doing my job."

"Well, I wouldn't trade with you," he said. This from the man who had gone into the dome first to see if there were worms inside. "Come on, let's go see if Duke has figured out where the worms are hiding-"

And then all hell broke loose.

There was a purple chirruping sound and a sudden cry. Larry went white and grabbed for his grenade belt. We heard the roar of a torch and from the other side of the nest puffed a gout of black smoke. I dropped my sample pouch and went charging after Larry.

I saw Shorty first. He had his legs braced firmly apart and was stabbing a finger of flame at something large and black and writhing. It was totally enveloped by the fire and smoke-the burning carcass of a worm!

I kept running-now I could see beyond the curve of the nest. There was another Chtorran there. I skidded and stopped in sheer horror-I had seen the pictures, yes, but they hadn't prepared me for the incredible size of the creature! It was huge! Nearly twice the length of a man, bright red and more than a meter thick at the head! Its eyes were black and lidless. It reared up into the air and waved its arms and made that chirruping sound again; its mouth was a flashing maw. "Chtorr!" it cried. "Chtorrrr! Chtorrrrrr!"