David Gerrold - A Matter for Men

I touched my beam to the creature's shoulder. The arms were anchored against a hump on its back. If I could keep it from holding the people down, it wouldn't have the leverage to pull back and free. It would be stuck with the one victim! I squeezed the trigger hard and dug gobbets out of the Chtorran's silver body. But the hideous arms kept moving! And the creature started swiveling toward me

I kept firing! The Chtorran's side was an exploding mass of flesh. Suddenly the arm collapsed-the limb fell useless, hanging and waving. It jerked and twitched erratically and black blood spurted from the wound. In the hellish view of the helmet, I could see the steam as pinkish vapor rising from its silver body. The rest of the world was a gray and green and orange backdrop to this horror.

I couldn't see the other arm to shoot at it; the Chtorran's body blocked my shot. I touched the beam to its eyes and squeezed the trigger! Again and again! The rifle dug against my shoulder as it shrieked, as it roared. One of the Chtorran's eyes disappeared, replaced by a bloody hole. The whole mound of flesh burst like jelly.

The Chtorran raised up then, up and up and up, revealing its darker mottled belly-was it going to throw itself at me?-and then it screamed! An agonizing, high-pitched howl of rage! "Chtorrrrr! Chtorrrrrr!" Without thinking, I skittered back, my feet slipping on the bloody carpeting of the auditorium. A row of seats had been broken from their anchors by the weight of the creature and there were people from the row behind pinned under them. The monster didn't notice. It broke its scream and focused. It looked at me and knew. For one single terrifying instant the two of us-human and Chtorran-shared a communication that transcended words! I knew it like a shout of rage and pain: Kill! The moment broke.

And then it came toward me. It arched its body forward and poured itself across the seats, flowing toward me like a river of teeth.

I stabbed the beam into its other eye and fired-tried to fire. Nothing happened-out of ammo-the empty clip popped up and out and clattered on the floor. I fumbled with a second magazine, sliding it into place even as I kept moving backward.

When I squeezed again, the creature's other eye exploded in a vaporous cloud.

It didn't slow the creature down! Even blind, the Chtorran could still sense its prey! Did it smell my terror? I was screaming now, a wordless rage of profanity, a wall of obscene fury that I flung against the horror! I had moved beyond my terror, was in a state where every action happened in slow motion, so slowly I could see the spurt of every droplet, the flex of every muscle, but even so could not move fast enough to escape the charging death.

The Chtorran reared again, and this time it was close enough to strike. I stabbed the beam into its mouth and carved it into bloody jelly. I squeezed the trigger hard and dug a screaming gory line straight down the monster's front and up again. The silver fur was streaked with red and black.

The Chtorran towered over me, shuddering with each punch of needles from the rifle, one arm hanging useless, the other grabbing, clutching frantically-its eyes were scarlet pudding, its mouth was twitching teeth

Somewhere in that jerking mass of flesh, there was a brain, a control center-something! I squeezed again and the second empty clip popped up. I grabbed my belt for another magazine

-and then the Chtorran toppled forward onto me and I went out.

SOMEBODY WAS calling me. Uh uh. Go away.

"Come on, Jim. Time to wake up." No, leave me alone.

She was shaking my shoulder. "Come on, Jim."

"Leemea lone-"

"Come on, Jim."

"What're you want-?" She kept shaking me. "Come on, Jim."

I went to brush her hand away. I couldn't move my hand. "What do you want, goddammit?"

"Come on, Jim."

I couldn't move my arm! "I can't move my arm!"

"You're connected to an IV. If you promise not to pull it loose, I'll untie your arm."

"I can't move my arm-!"

"Do you promise not to pull the IV out?"

"Untie me!"

"I can't do that, Jim. Not until you promise."

"Yes, yes, I promise!" I knew that voice. Who was she? "Just untie me!"

Somebody was doing something to my arm. And then it was free. I could move it around. "Why did you wake me up?"

"Because you have to wake up."

"No, I don't. Leave me alone."

"Uh uh. I have to stay with you."

"No, I want be dead again. The Chtorran killed me-"

"No, he didn't. You killed him."

"No. I want to be dead. Like everybody else."

"No, you don't, Jim. Ted wouldn't like it."

"Ted's an asshole. He isn't even here." I wondered where here was. I wondered who I was talking to. She was holding my hand. "I want to be dead too. Everybody else gets to be dead-why can't I?"

"Because once you're dead, you can't change your mind about it."

"I don't want to change my mind. Being dead can't be all that bad. Nobody who was dead ever complained about it, did they? Like Shorty. Shorty's dead. He was my best friend-and I didn't even know him. And my dad. And Marcie's dog. And the little girl. Oh, God"-I started to cry then-"we shot a little girl! I was there, I saw it! And Dr. Obama-she told me it was all right! But it wasn't! That's all bullshit! She's still dead! We didn't even try to save her! And I didn't see any Chtorrans! Everybody else said there were Chtorrans, but I didn't see any Chtorrans!" I wiped at my face, wiped the snot away from my nose. "I didn't believe in the Chtorrans. I never even saw the pictures. How was I to know?" The words bubbled up in my throat, tumbling out one after another. "I saw the Chtorran kill Shorty. I burned it. And I saw them feeding dogs to the Chtorran. Marcie's dog. I saw them bring the Chtorran onto the stage. Dr. Zymph checked the glass-oh, God-I saw it break. The Chtorran just boiled out into the auditorium. I saw the people running-I saw it-" I was choking on my own sobs now. She was holding my hand tight

I wiped at my face again, but she was there with a tissue. I took it and mopped at my nose and eyes. Why was I crying, I wondered. And why was I saying all of this?

"Don't go away!!" I said suddenly.

"I'm right here."

"Stay with me."

"It's all right, I'm right here."

"Who are you?"

"It's Dinnie."

"Dinnie? I don't know any Dinnie." Or did I? Why did the name sound familiar? "What's wrong with me?"

She patted my hand. "Nothing's wrong with you that won't get better. Are you through crying?"

I thought about it. "Yeah, I guess so."

"You going to open your eyes?"

"No."

"Okay. Don't."

I opened my eyes. Green. The ceiling was green. The room was small and dimly lit. A hospital? I blinked in confusion. "Where am I?"

"Reagan Memorial."

I turned my head to look at her. She wasn't as weird-looking as I remembered. She was still holding my hand. "Hi," I said.

"Hi," she said. "Feeling better?"

I nodded. "Why did you wake me up?"

"House rules. Anyone on pentothal has to be awakened when they come out of surgery, so we're sure they can handle their own breathing."

"Oh," I said. I was covered with blankets. I couldn't feel anything. "What happened?"

She looked unhappy. "The Chtorran killed twenty-three people. Fourteen more died in the panic. Thirty-four were injured, five of them critically. Two of those are not expected to live." She eyed me critically. "In case you're wondering, you will."

I started to ask, "Who-" But my voice cracked and I didn't finish the sentence.

"'Who' what?"

"Who was killed?"

"They haven't released any names yet."

"Oh. So you don't know."

I couldn't fathom her expression. She looked oddly satisfied. "Well, I can tell you this-some of the Fourth World delegations are going to have to be restaffed. We've filled up two wings and the morgue with them. They were all sitting in the first five rows. And the worm threw himself across that whole section."