David Gerrold - A Matter for Men

"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."

For a moment there was silence.

Then Ted said, "Do you have them with you?"

I upended the pouch and tumbled them out onto the table. There must have been a dozen, at least.

Ted stared; so did the two other men who still remained. I didn't know their names. The eggs were blood-red and smooth, still moist-looking and slightly translucent. There was something dark inside. Gingerly, Ted picked one up and sniffed it. "Raw fish, all right." He held it against the side of the millipede cage. They tested it incuriously, then lost interest. "Well, that's what saved your life, Jimbo-the fact that you're such a clumsy retard. You must have had egg all over you."

I thought back. "You're right. I know I had it up to my knees and all over my arms." I shuddered at the thought of what might have happened if I hadn't. And that was probably why my three specimens hadn't tried to chew their way out of the sample pouch -the smell of the eggs around them.

"Uh huh-" Ted was holding the egg up to the light.

"See anything?" I asked.

"It says, `Disregard previous egg.' " He replaced it on the table. "I can't tell."

"You know what these remind me of?" I said. "Ant eggs."

"Ant eggs?"

"Uh huh. They have that same kind of almost-translucency. And their shells are soft too. Look, see how they bounce? What does that suggest?"

"Handball?"

I ignored it. "It means we can begin to learn something about how they evolved. Birds and reptiles have hard-shelled eggs-it's for extra strength and water retention. This might indicate a lower level of development. Insects or amphibians."

"Worms are a little bit of each?"

"Maybe." I picked up the egg again. "On the other hand, maybe the Chtorran atmosphere is humid enough so that moisture retention is not a very important survival factor. And this shell seems to be awfully thick, almost cartilaginous. That might provide the protection the embryo needs, particularly if Chtorr does have a higher gravity than Earth. That's what some of the fellows around here think. It would explain the Chtorrans' extreme strength and mobility." I frowned and held the egg up to the light. "I don't know. The shape of an egg and the texture of its shell should tell you things about the conditions it's meant to hatch under-and that should give you clues about the nature of the parent and the offspring. But I don't know how to begin to figure this one out. My brain hurts-there are too many questions. Like, for instance, how come if these millipede things are so incredibly voracious they aren't interested in the eggs?" I pressed the egg to the mesh again. "It doesn't make sense."